


My Reflection; All I See Is You

by zipplekink



Series: My Reflection [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipplekink/pseuds/zipplekink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This life, it's forever. That's what being immortal means, but Zayn didn't realize it would take him this long to realize it. What good is forever if nothing else is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm horrible with summaries I apologize. Titled after the ending part of Mirrors (because it is amazing okay).

It had been years. Decades and decades and yet Zayn is still having adjustment issues. Louis told him it would be okay - it would happen eventually. But Louis is only a few decades older than him and he is not so sure the older lad has adjusted himself.

It wasn't the power, flowing through his veins and digging into the soft skin in his mouth that he was having a hard time adjusting to. It was the endlessness of it all. Forever. And how different that made him from everyone. Because while he was forever, nothing else around him was.

Louis at least had a bit more of forever than he did. He had Harry, he had memories. Those were forever, though Louis claimed the memories faded over time. But Zayn is skeptical.

Zayn couldn't remember anything, before he had been changed. Not even his name, where he was from, his family if he had one. All his memories were of Louis, and those didn't go away. No matter how badly he wanted them to.

 

"Morning," Harry greets with a mumble, padding out from the hallway stretching to his shared bedroom. Zayn sits at the island in the kitchen, a cup of coffee warming his hands. Even the slightest of warmth is burning hot, and it feels good. "Did you see Louis before he left?"

"I didn't know he left," Zayn responds, uninterested. Louis is always leaving unannounced. But it would be a stupid move if he or Harry decided to do the same.

Harry sits beside him with his own cup, frowning. "He didn't say where he was going."

"He never does."

Harry only frowns more, though Zayn isn't truly trying to raise his spirits. He could care less. Harry is still new, he would get used to it.

"I'm hungry. Should I call him? Tell him to bring something back?"

Zayn gets up. "I don't care what you do, Harry." He says before walking out of the kitchen and towards his room.

When they had first found this home, by accident, Harry had not been with them, but there were still three of them. The house, a living room, kitchen, dining room with two corridors stretching from each side, was more dungeon-like than home like. Or at least, from what little Zayn knew about homes. The ones he had seen before had flowered walls, not stone, and lots of windows. But to be fair, Zayn had never seen a home for a clan of vampires. His clan had traveled before settling into a place.

Stan, a boy younger than Zayn, took one corridor and Louis and Zayn the other. The house was big enough to fit ten of them but Louis was fine with the three, so Zayn was too. When Harry came, Zayn moved into Stan's corridor, and Harry took his place.

Zayn didn't mind though, it was quiet on this end of the house. He could listen to music as loud as he wanted to, and Louis wouldn't bitch about it. The walls were covered in paint covered finger prints. Paint over paint over paint. When there is no more room, Zayn just paints all over again.

Zayn curls into his bed. He is hungry too, very hungry. His brain aches and his teeth hurt. There’s an irritation weighing heavy on his shoulders and it’s making him grumpy. Closing his eyes, he can force some of the headache away, but it's not much of a difference truly.

 

Zayn wakes as a delicious scent travels up his nose and through his senses. Pain shoots through his tongue as he bites himself accidentally. Louis sits beside him, a smirk on his face as he presses a straw against Zayn's lips.

Zayn can't help the way his eyes close, the sigh of satisfaction rumbling from him as he drinks, dulling the ache he had been feeling earlier.

"Sorry it took me so long," Louis says softly, running his fingers through Zayn's hair. "Ran into a little bump in the road."

Zayn opens his eyes and sits up as a question, but does not pull his mouth away. Louis scoots closer, wrapping a hand around the back of Zayn's neck.

"Another clan," Louis starts, fingers digging into his neck as he speaks. "Plot twist: one is human, and I believe there is no intention to use or change him. But it was a short interaction.”

Zayn pulls away, feeling the liquid dribble from the corner of his mouth slightly and his tongue flicks out to catch it. Louis' eyes follow the path of his tongue but he does not move.

"How did you find out their intentions with the human if it was only a short interaction?"

Louis moves back, face forming into mock anger. "I am very talented Zayn, do not discredit me."

Zayn snorts, rolling his eyes. "Calm down. I just mean how could you possibly know they do not intend on changing or using him? I doubt that is something they start out introductions with."

Louis scoots back closer to him. "Same way I can tell you are angry with me." He changes the topic at hand easily. Louis has always been extremely perceptible. Zayn used to swear he was clairvoyant or something.

Louis pulls on Zayn's neck so his lips hover over his. His tongue darts out, wiping against Zayn's lips. He presses his lips to Zayn's and as much as Zayn wants to move away, he kisses Louis back, tasting the blood fresh on Louis' tongue as it moves against his.

When Louis pulls away, he runs a thumb across the corner of Zayn's lips and releases the grip on his neck. "It's been thirty years now, Zayn. When are you going to get used to him?"

Zayn keeps his face straight and doesn't respond. Because the answer would cause a fight and Zayn doesn't want to know what would happen to him if they were to fight. He doesn’t want to know who Louis would choose.

Louis sighs and sits up, leaving the bag with him. "If you need more, it's in the refrigerator. We are going out in two hours. Have enough by then."

Zayn follows behind Louis, going into the bathroom a few doors down. It is ritual when he enters, to look into the mirror above the sink. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t help but to search for a reflection staring back at him. But all he sees is the back of the door, directly across from the sink. It is no different today.

His fingers tense, wanting to smash into the smooth glass. But Louis had threatened to ban mirrors from the house if he broke another. He presses his fingers to the glass, leaving oval marks in its wake.

If Zayn or Harry want to leave the house they have to be with Louis, and Zayn can’t deal with how on edge Louis is when Harry is alone, so they always go together. The town is a few miles away, but with their speed they can make it there in minutes. Zayn likes being around the townspeople and watching them. He is only allowed to when fully fed. Another one of Louis’ many rules.

There is one woman in particular Zayn likes to watch. She's an elderly woman, who works a stand in the market. A thrift shop like stand, buying and selling used items that seem almost worthless, but for some reason catches the eyes of passersby. She's so fragile Zayn can hear the way her bones creak as she moves, see the blood flow through the thick veins covering her arms and legs. Warmth radiates off of her, the kindness in her facial features, and the way she greets others. Zayn has never spoken to her, only watches from a distance as she speaks to other people. Sometimes he can hear her voice, as soft and gentle as the rest of her.

"We won't be far," Louis tells him, squeezing his wrist slightly before walking in another direction with Harry. Zayn sits across from the lady's stand, at a small, outside cafe. A girl, Veronica, greets him.

"Your regular?" She says with the same flirty smile that she always has on her face. Zayn nods, turning his eyes back to the crowd.

It's not so busy today, with the weather starting to get colder. There's less children about, more coats and less skin. But there are people at the thrift shop, and the lady is smiling warmly at a boy, wearing the same green apron as her. He is new. Zayn comes to the market nearly every day and has never seen him. The old lady is showing him the register, pointing to different places, watching him until he nods in understanding. She's the only saleswoman who isn't using the high tech smart phone way of taking credit cards. The boy, with nearly the same warm smile, hands the customer his bag of items before looking at the old woman for approval.

The boy's eyes lift up in his direction and Zayn snaps his eyes away.

He keeps his eyes away from the thrift shop after that, not wanting the boy to catch him again and say something to the old woman. There’s something about her that Zayn wants to keep at a distance. He doesn’t want to see the fear in her eyes as he has seen with so many of the other humans he has interacted with. Not on her kind face.

"Here is your coffee," the waitress greets, handing him a cup with careful hands. "It is very hot."

The warmth from the cup spreads through his fingers and he watches the way the steam floats from the small opening of the lid.

"Thank you, Veronica."

The girl smiles and bats her eye lashes. She goes to turn, biting her lip softly before she stops herself. "Are you ever going to tell me your name? You've been coming around here for ages and I nearly know everyone else's."

"Uh, it's Zayn," he responds flatly, wishing the girl would leave. She is nice enough, but not his type. Type of species, type of play toy. Type of anything, really.

"Well, it is nice to meet you, Zayn."

Zayn nods, thankful as she turns around and leaves. It is the feeling of being alone while around a crowd of people that he enjoys about the marketplace. But today it doesn't seem that he will be able to get that,  as the chair opposite of him moves not nearly two seconds after the waitress departs.

"It is very nice to meet you, as well, Zayn."

It's the boy, with the warm smile. He is wearing it now, reaching into his eyes where they crinkle slightly at the corners. But up close Zayn sees it is the only softness on his face, next to his hard, sharp jaw and cheek bones. He is tanned skin and brown eyed, his dark hair combed back into a not so perfect quiff on the top of his head. There's a dark circular mark on his neck that pops through the collar of his white polo. He isn't wearing a jacket despite the drop in temperature. There’s a scent mixed in with his cologne that tickles Zayn’s nose, but he is not sure what it is. It’s foreign, almost to the point of being foul.

"And you are?" Zayn asks, eyes flicking towards the thrift shop where the woman is now alone with a group of customers.

"Liam. I saw you looking at Mrs. Ramir earlier. Are you related to her?" The boy's voice is curious, but not as defensive as most people would be if they catch a creepy person staring at their boss.

"No, I was merely people watching," Zayn says honestly.

"That is a bit creepy mate. Do you come here and just stare at the crowd all day and leave?"

Zayn's eyes narrow and his fingers press into the warm styrofoam cup. "I don't suppose it is any of your business what I do?"

The boy laughs, throwing his head back slightly. His eyes crinkle even more and if Zayn wasn't tense, he would admire his face more. "No, I suppose it is not. I don't mean to come off rude. To be honest with you, I like to watch the people here so much that I've gotten a job here."

Zayn doesn't respond, unsure of what to make of this Liam guy. He seems genuinely friendly, but not many sane people take the seat across from a complete stranger. And his smells something awful. Zayn bites the inside of his cheek to prevent his nose from crinkling.

"You probably think I am a crazy," Liam continues, regardless of a response from Zayn. "But Mrs. Ramir says you sit here nearly every day, alone and I could take an extra break today to keep you company."

Zayn's chest tightens slightly and he is unsure of why. "That is kind of her but is unneeded. My family is here, somewhere else."

Liam nods, a smile still on his face despite everything. "Well, I would like an extra break so…if you don’t mind.” He waves the waitress over.

"I guess not," Zayn responds.

The boy is quiet after he orders his own coffee and a tea for Mrs. Ramir. He doesn’t speak again, except to Veronica who takes his order with a frown. He is a strange boy, or at least Zayn thinks so. He hasn’t interacted with many humans in his life time.

Liam holds out his hand, and the stench on him becomes stronger. His attempts to hide the crinkle in his nose fail as Liam pulls his hand slightly away, a frown forming on his face. “Uh, it was nice to meet you…I better get –“  
“I’m sorry, it’s a sneeze,” Zayn lies quickly, taking the boy’s hand before he pulls it farther away. It feels almost necessary to touch the boy’s skin with his own. His fingers are warm and Zayn can feel the pulse in the veins by his wrist.

“Bless you,” Liam responds, a smile ghosting his lips.

Zayn watches the boy walk back to the thrift shop. The woman looks up at him when he returns, eyes flicking towards Zayn. It is the first time the old woman notices Zayn and she gives him one of the warm smiles he has always seen her give her customers. It doesn’t scare Zayn the way he thought it would. But he remains in his seat, looking away and at the cup of coffee going cold in his hands.

 

 

“You reek,” Louis exclaims, his nose crinkling as Zayn finds them in one of the book shops. Well, he finds just Louis, Harry somewhere off, hidden under a pile of books that have hopefully collapsed on top of him.  
“I’ve had a good day, thanks for asking,” Zayn responds.

Louis grabs the bottom of his shirt, pulling him close to press his nose closer to Zayn’s skin. Zayn presses his hands against his chest, attempting to push him off but Louis is stronger than him. He moves his nose down Zayn’s arm and to his hands. Zayn is sure people are staring at them.

“Get off,” Zayn says roughly and Louis lets him go.

“Who were you with?” Louis’ eyes point at him.

“By myself, like always?”

Louis looks at him for a bit longer before he decides to let it go. “Let’s find Harry and go home. Hungry?”

He is. That is why he had left his spot to find them. And the boy’s eyes that kept flickering back to him made him a little uneasy, especially as the hunger started to gnaw at him. “A little, yeah.”

Louis wipes his thumb against his mouth and presses it to Zayn, but not before he sees the red liquid bubbling against his skin. Zayn closes his eyes, letting the sweet taste settle on his tongue. His teeth pierce Louis’ skin and Louis chuckles before pulling his hand away.

“As I thought. You can feed right after you scrub that nasty smell off of you, yeah?”

Zayn presses his fingers against his own skin, wondering if Liam’s smell has gotten on him. He doesn’t smell anything lingering there.

They find Harry drowning in a stack of books, reluctant to leave.

“Please, I just have a few more chapters left to read.” Harry flashes the front of the book he’s holding in his hands. It’s something old, written before any of their time.

“We can just buy it, c’mon. Zayn is hungry.”

Harry’s eyes light up as he walks past them towards the counter. “Oh okay. Me too.”

 

Zayn scrubs roughly at his skin with a new bar of soap. The hot water is hot, filling the room with steam. If he could sweat, he would produce more than the shower head produces water. He hears the door open, knowing it’s Louis as his scent fills the room. It’s like a musky, minty scent. The most familiar scent he knows.

“You still smell,” Louis grumbles. Zayn can see the outline of his figure leaning against the wall through the glass shower door.

“I’ve nearly scrubbed my skin raw!” Zayn tells him. The strong scent of soap tickles his nose and he’s not sure how there can be any more of Liam’s stench left on him if he cannot smell it.

“Then come out so you can feed,” Louis says impatiently, tapping his finger against the door.

Zayn shuts the water off, opening the door slightly and reaching his hand out for a towel.

“I’ve seen you naked before, Malik. It’s alright.” There’s humor coating his voice and Zayn groans.

“My underwear, at least. Please, Louis.”  
Begrudgingly, Louis hands Zayn his black cotton boxers that Zayn slips on before stepping out of the shower. He grabs the towel from next to the sink and runs it along his torso, catching the water that slips down his skin.

“No new tattoos today. I’m proud of you,” Louis admires, his eyes raking Zayn’s body. He feels vulnerable like this, and goes to snatch the pajama pants he had brought in with him.

“Maybe next time,” Zayn responds, quickly pulling the pants on.

“Maybe that tiger you’re always drawing on your walls. Your right side could use some more ink.” Louis comes closer to him. Zayn only nods, wondering if Louis is going to make him wait for his food tonight. He has been especially grumpy towards Harry, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t like being around the curly headed nuisance.

Louis presses Zayn so the sink digs into his lower back. “You’re angry with me, aren’t you?” His eyes search Zayn’s face and for a moment Zayn wishes he could see what Louis sees. “Or are you just being your normal, grumpy self?”

“The latter,” Zayn murmurs, wishing to not have this conversation at all. But Zayn is stuck.

“Drink,” he murmurs huskily, tilting his head to his side to reveal the slope of his neck. Zayn stares for a moment, not sure as to what game Louis is playing.

“I’m alright,” Zayn protests, trying to push his hands against Louis’ shoulder but he fails at being subtle. Louis retaliates by pushing their chests harder together.

“I’m not going to ask twice.” Louis’ eyes darken and he grips Zayn’s hip sharply, nails digging in. Louis is obeyed, it’s an unspoken rule.

Zayn runs his tongue against his teeth, feeling the way his fangs grow sharp. Blood runs through their veins, but it’s fundamentally different, like adding the vodka to the tonic. Human blood dulls the ache, clears the senses and is like a booster. But the blood of another vampire is power, an energy shot.

“Do it already,” Louis says huskily, curling his hand around Zayn’s head and pushing it down. His teeth graze Louis’ skin and Louis responds with a sharp intake of breath. His teeth sink easily in. It’s a rush, his heart pounding against his chest, mouth filling with the sweet taste of Louis. Everything is magnified. His body is sensitive to Louis’ touch, the sharp press of the sink. He can smell Harry’s shampoo through the fading steam and soap, and the flower bush by the end of the driveway. If his eyes were open he would be able to see every pore on a face across the room. He can follow the indents and pathways of the blue irises in Louis’ eyes if he moved his head away. But he couldn’t if he tried, the blood taking him and keeping him there.

It is the way his body tingles as nerve endings burst at every end of him that causes the moan to slip from his lips as he bites harder into Louis’ skin. Louis presses himself against Zayn more; the whole lengths of their bodies are touching. His nails dig into Zayn’s neck and he pushes his hips up. Zayn lets go with a gasp as a pleasurable sensation shoots up his spine. Louis holds onto him, grinding their hips together, pushing his hips up and bringing Zayn’s hips down. The sink bites angrily into Zayn’s back but he doesn’t care, resting his forehead into Louis’ neck, groaning shamelessly. Zayn can feel every thread of fabric in his underwear rubbing against his cock as Louis’ moves. He can feel the precome coat the top of him, spreading and soaking through the fabric, Louis’ erect nipples rubbing through the material of his shirt and against Zayn’s chest. Louis’ scent fills him, becoming overpowering. Louis is everything around him, even the bite of the sink dulls as Louis takes over.

Louis grabs Zayn’s face, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and biting into the soft flesh. Tension in his abdomen builds and Zayn moans obscenely against Louis’ lips before he comes, his whole body shuttering as Louis’ holds him up. It’s so much more intense than the shameful moments of pumping his own cock, Louis’ name lingering on his tongue.

Louis presses their hips together, his hips slowing and Zayn groans from sensitivity. Blood fills his mouth as Louis’ moan is cut off from his teeth slicing into Zayn’s lip more. Louis pushes a hand between them, cupping him with softer movements, running his thumb over the pool of come that had soaked through his pajama pants. Zayn pants against his mouth as Louis presses a soft kiss to his already healing lip. He moves his lips against Zayn’s jaw, taking a deep breath against his skin.

“I have forgotten how sweet you taste, Malik,” he mutters, lips moving against Zayn’s jaw as he speaks.

Zayn forgot just how much he missed being with Louis. “Thank you,” is all he responds with, a knot starting to form in his throat as the energy in the air starts to fade. It continues to buzz through Zayn, like an electric high.

“Are you good now?” Louis asks, cupping Zayn’s face, his eyes searching again. Zayn isn’t sure if he’s asking about his mood or his appetite.

“Yes,” he replies, breathlessly. In fact, he is more than okay. It had been too long for him to remember the last time Louis had let him feed from him. About thirty years, he would guess.

“Good boy,” Louis praises teasingly, pulling away from him. Zayn feels the high around him start to plummet at the moment their bodies are no longer touching. He watches Louis turn and leave so easily, nothing holding him back. The door shuts and it’s like a truck slamming into him, the force of emotion so harsh he gasps out loud.

Feeding increases pleasure, making the whole body sensitive. But it also increases pain, not physical pain, but emotional pain. Zayn’s heart clenches in his chest as he grips the sink, focusing on the mirror he cannot see himself in.

There used to be a time where Louis and Zayn would barely go moments without touching each other. Even in public, out of view, their magnified senses allowing them to hear if someone was coming. Not always sexual, but they were always touching somehow. Louis’ fingers wrapped loosely around Zayn’s wrist, or a hand pressed against his lower back. For a few weeks when Zayn was young, they had stayed locked up in their bedroom. Louis left a few times to supply himself, but Zayn did not drink human blood for those few weeks. Just Louis, everything was Louis. Zayn had done everything Louis wanted, without hesitation. And then Harry came in and took it all away, without even trying. Zayn doesn’t remember his life changing from human to vampire, but he is pretty sure it would feel the way it did when his life changed from Louis and Zayn to Louis and Harry. He had shoved it all out, forgot it all, and now it was rushing into his system at high speed.

Zayn stays in the bathroom awhile, staring at that mirror, before going into his room, changing out of his dirty clothes and curling into his bed. Even from the distance, he can hear Louis and Harry talking in hushed voices but he tunes them out, not wanting to hear their intimate moments. He thinks about the brown haired boy and his innocent face, oblivious to what he is. He concentrates on that boy until any thought the pain that is stored in his chest starts to dull some.

 

Harry is upset. And he knows he shouldn’t be, but he can’t help it. The sounds of Louis and Zayn from the night before, moaning and gasping, echo in his brain as if on a constant loop. Louis had curled around him after his shower and explained to him that Zayn needed him too. But Harry thinks, and he would never say it out loud, that it’s because of the scent of another vampire that lingered on Zayn the day before. Louis had mentioned it enough times to clue him in that it bothered him. And it bothered Harry too, but not in a possessive way like Louis. In a concerned way. They didn’t interact with other clans, ever.

“Why haven’t you gotten out of bed yet?” Louis asks, coming into the room they share. He had been gone when Harry woke, and he was sort of glad. Harry isn’t so sure he can face Louis when his head is filled with the sounds another person caused him to make.

“Are we going into town today?” Harry asks, confused. Harry lounging in bed all day is normal.

“Best not.” Louis says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “I did some investigating this morning. Remember that clan of vamps I told you about? On the other side of town?” Harry nods as Louis climbs into the bed beside him and pushes his fingers through Harry’s curls. “Well, the scent on Zayn yesterday reminded me of them so I went there.”

Harry’s eyes widen. “Louis! That’s dangerous!”  
Louis waves him off. “Well, it is their scent.”  
“But Zayn said he wasn’t with anyone. Maybe he just walked by them,” Harry says, trying to make sense of Louis’ words.

Louis makes a frustrated noise. “Zayn would have noticed if another vampire walked by him. And they touched skin. It was powerful on his hands. Only skin touching skin can cause that. That’s why I –“ He pauses, biting his lip. “That’s why I made him shower first before eating. It was so foul I definitely would have lost my appetite.”  
Even if Harry didn’t know Louis as well as he did he would be able to spot the lie. Louis never lost his appetite. “Maybe you should ask him again, then?”

Louis shakes his head. “Zayn is mad at me because…well, us.” Louis looks away from Harry as he speaks. “And he could be doing this for revenge or something stupid.”

Harry isn’t so sure about this but he doesn’t argue.

Louis doesn’t require a response clearly, as he continues. “I brought you in. He might find it fair to bring in his own vamp.”

“But you found me newly changed, saved me…”  
Louis shrugs, pulling Harry’s face down towards him to press his lips to the corner Harry’s mouth. Harry wants to keep asking questions because it’s not making sense in his brain, what he knows and what Louis is saying doesn’t connect, but Louis clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.

“So I’m going into town today to meet up with the leader of the other clan, an Irish bloke –“

“By yourself?” Harry nearly shouts as Louis attempts to continue talking.  

“I don’t want this guy knowing any more than he needs to.” Louis sighs and sits up with him. “Get along with Zayn, yeah?”  
Harry presses his forehead to Louis’ shoulder. “I like Zayn. It’s Zayn who doesn’t like me.”

  
Louis finally convinces Harry he actually has to leave about an hour later, pulling away with a groan. Harry listens to him leave, walking through the house and shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t say anything to Zayn, who must be in his room. Harry assumes it must be safe then, to pad out into the kitchen.

The stories he had read about vampires before he was changed didn’t hold up. He eats and it isn’t hard to do, nothing different at all actually. He walks during the day and the sun doesn’t dull his senses. Night time life is for when he is restless and can’t sleep. There’s nothing really negative to being a vampire that he’s noticed, except having to stay away from your families, watching them die. Harry family is still alive, he thinks. But Louis forbids him from keeping an eye on them, so he can’t truly know. That part is difficult, having to stay away from his mother and sister, but his family is his clan now, and he accepted that long ago. 

Harry makes himself a bowl of cereal and flicks on the television. He is never sure what to do when Louis is gone. He hears Zayn walk into the corridor, listens to his footsteps grow louder as he comes closer and enters the kitchen. He doesn’t acknowledge Harry, just looks at him and opens the fridge, pulling out a bag of blood. He stinks of Louis, any other vampire’s scent long gone. Harry’s body tenses, though he doesn’t mean for it to.

“What is your problem?” Zayn snaps, whipping around. A bit of blood drips from the corner of mouth from pulling the bag roughly out of his mouth.

“Nothing,” Harry growls. He is a no good vampire. His chest is already tightening. Zayn is too confrontational, quick to react.

“Clearly you have a problem,” Zayn says again. Harry wonders if he knows that Louis has left and if he is being an ass just because Louis is gone. It was Zayn who was with Harry’s mate the night before, not the other way around. It should be Harry attacking Zayn.

“I don’t,” Harry chokes out.

Zayn stares him at him, face twisted into a growl before he throws down the bag of blood in his hands. It lands with a smack, splattering all over the tile floorboard, flecks of blood sprinkling the edge of the wall.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave!” Panic shoots through him. “Zayn, nothing is wrong! I’m sorry!”

Zayn ignores him, slamming the door behind him.

Harry waits, pacing around the kitchen with his eyes glued to the door. He can’t hear Zayn, can’t smell him any longer. Surely Zayn isn’t stupid enough to disobey Louis’ direct orders. Don’t go anywhere off property without him, don’t leave Harry alone. Those are the rules, they both know that.

Ten minutes go by and Zayn’s scent is completely gone. Harry searches his phone, not sure how to tell Louis Zayn has left and Harry doesn’t know why, doesn’t know where he is going or when he is coming back.

 

Zayn was going to leave regardless of anything Harry did. He had heard Louis leave that morning and it gave him the perfect opportunity. He isn’t planning on leaving for forever. He just needs to breathe, to be away from everything that was Louis and Harry. He doesn’t have a destination, but he isn’t surprised when his feet drag him through the crowd and towards the familiar wooden stand.

Zayn doesn’t see the older woman anywhere in the small crowd. He only sees Liam, talking to a customer who is holding up a gaudy pink and green knit sweater. Liam’s eyes turn in his direction as Zayn breaks through the crowd and he sends Zayn a smile, one that Zayn is hesitant to return.

He doesn’t smell so much today, though there is still a hint of odor as he nears the thrift shop. Zayn has never truly gotten close to it, always wanting to stay a safe distance away.

Liam checks the customer out before he locks the register and makes his way towards Zayn. Zayn realizes he hasn’t moved since Liam spotted him, just stayed rooted in the spot, staring away.

“You’re a bit closer today. That’s progress,” Liam greets him, smiling kindly.

Zayn clears his throat and nods. A look of amusement crosses Liam’s face.

“Did you come here to be creepy again?”  
Zayn laughs and it feels nice rumbling in his chest. “My feet just kind of took me here.”

Liam checks on the stand before turning back to him. “Do you live far?”  
Zayn starts to nod but shakes his head quickly. The conversation isn’t much of one, but it’s surprisingly satisfying. His mood simmers down a bit, and he can’t seem to remember why he had stormed out so angrily. It was uncalled for and maybe he should apologize, but he isn’t going to. Not yet, at least.

“Well, which is it?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “It doesn’t feel far.”

Liam tilts his head when he looks at Zayn. He wonders if there’s something on his face, maybe a bit of left over blood, maybe he has dried tooth paste on his face and doesn’t know about it. But Liam doesn’t say anything, but he could be as kind as he looks. Another smell passes through the air, it’s like Liam’s, but stronger and it sort of reminds him of Louis.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Liam asks suddenly. Zayn finds himself nodding, though he doesn’t even know what he’s doing in the next five minutes. “Okay, good, because I have to go so…” He throws his thumb behind him. There are a few more people at the thrift shop. Zayn waves sheepishly, wondering when he had forgotten basic things, like talking.

Liam walks back to the stand, throwing a smile over his shoulder.

He walks quickly off when Liam turns back around because he realizes the scent doesn’t just remind him of Louis, it is Louis. There’s something else mixed with it, something unfamiliar to Zayn. He wants to check to see if it’s problematic, but if Louis isn’t trouble and he gets too close, than it would just be him who is in trouble.

Zayn slips into the building to the right of the café, another kind of restaurant. The hostess looks at him expectantly but he ignores her, moving farther past the podium, out of eye sight form the crowd in the street.

Louis passes by and Zayn knows he is trouble. Louis’ eyes scan they crowd, but they are subtle. His body is tense but unnoticeable to a stranger. Harry would have called him, probably before Zayn even left the property. The older boy eyes the thrift shop, turning away with a frown. The man walking in pace beside him looks at the thrift shop, but he turns his head with a much more relaxed expression.

He’s unfamiliar but Zayn knows he is one of them. From the other clan, no doubt. It doesn’t make sense, the two of them together. Louis had always told him stay away from other vampires, you can’t trust anyone that is not family. He had gone over that rule again and again, engrained it into his brain. It was the same when Louis brought Harry in.  

Louis’ looks over in his direction but he’s not sure if he’s been spotted or not. He waits, long after Louis disappears from view before leaving the restaurant.


	2. Chapter 2

There isn’t a word accurate enough to describe Louis’ anger. For a fleeting moment, Zayn thinks his leaving the house is going to be the actual death of him.

Louis shoves his arm against Zayn’s throat, pressing him hard into the painted wall. He hadn’t knocked, just threw open the door and pounced ontoZayn.  
  
“I’m back, I’m fine,” Zayn tries, voice strangled from the pressure of Louis’ arm.  
  
“There’s one rule, Zayn. Don’t leave without me,” Louis growls lowly, pushing harder against him. Zayn doesn’t struggle, his body feels weak. Feeding off of Louis the night before had faded quickly, and he had stormed out before he could get a substantial amount.  
  
“There’s way more than one rule,” Zayn argues, voice squeaking at the end. He doesn’t need to breathe, but it is uncomfortable. Zayn’s nails dig at the wall behind him. He can see Harry in the corridor, big concerned eyes slamming shut every time Louis moves suddenly.  
  
“What has been up your arse lately?” Louis snaps, slamming Zayn harder so his head bangs into the wall. Pain shoots through his skull for a brief moment, almost immediately turning to a dull ache as his body starts to heal itself. Harry gasps, finally coming into Zayn’s room but both of the older boys ignore him. “I feed you, I take care of you.”  
  
Zayn keeps his mouth shut because he doesn’t know what has been making him so grumpy. The constant presence of Harry isn’t the reason, only adds to it. It can’t be explained, because not even he understands it. It’s like something fundamental is missing. Like the ache when he is hungry, but he can’t figure out what he needs to make it go away.  
  
“What is it?” Zayn wants Louis to scream, or something other than being quiet. The calm in his voice doesn’t match the anger in his eyes. The last time he was like that was when Stan died, but that had been softened by hurt and not directed towards Zayn.  
  
“I give you attention. Was last night not enough?”  
  
“I’m not a dog,” Zayn growls, pushing against him harder. His words hurt, more so than he wants to admit.  
  
Louis stumbles back, surprised more than anything. It leaves Zayn enough space to slip out from in between him and the wall. “You feed me, you take care of me, you give me attention? That’s enough? I’m not your dog, Louis. I’m your best mate!” He feels the heat rushing up to his face. Vampires are cold on the inside, and usually that is all he feels. But there’s fire burning in his chest. “I used to be more!”  
  
Louis laughs, but it is not filled with amusement. “That is why you have your panties all in a bunch? Get over it, Zayn. It’s been thirty years.”  
  
Zayn shoves him, hard. There’s more damage done to his hands than done to Louis. Harry pushes himself in the room even more, moving between Louis and Zayn. Louis’ face twists in anger but he doesn’t push past Harry.  
  
“Thirty years barely makes a dent in forever,” Zayn throws back at him. The words tumble out of his mouth before he can catch them. It hurts more, hearing them out loud. The tremble in his limbs can’t be stilled no matter how hard he squeezes his fingers. He wants Louis to hurt as much as he does, but punching him in the face would only cause Zayn even more pain.  
  
“Zayn,” Harry gasps as Zayn storms past him. He could care less if Harry is upset.  
  
The air outside is strikingly cold against his skin. The sky has fallen, but he can see clearly. There’s something inside of him telling him where he needs to go, like being tugged by a string.  
His feet take him fast, hoping it isn’t late enough for the market place to be closed.  
  
It’s nearly empty, but the shop keepers are still in their shops, wiping down tables, straightening out their merchandise, a few of them locking up and leaving. The few customers that are still there slowly start to check out.  
  
“It’s not tomorrow,” Liam says over his shoulder, not looking at him. Zayn isn’t close to the thrift shop, still a few feet away but he can hear him easily, his voice floating through the still air. Zayn watches the muscles under his shirt move as he wipes down a few tables, the register already gone and the cage around the stand half way closed. Liam’s heart beats floats over with his voice and it reminds Zayn that he hasn’t fed all day.  
  
“It’s progress.”  
  
Liam looks over his shoulder and returns the smirk that Zayn sends his way. Maybe it’s the crinkles in his eyes that brought him here, the laughter that is so foreign to him. Liam throws down the towel he was using and walks out of the cage, closing and locking it. Zayn doesn't move, waiting on Liam to close the space between them.  
  
“I’m sorry sir, but we are closed,” Liam says as he does so.  
  
“Well that restaurant isn’t for another few hours,” Zayn tries, pointing to the restaurant he had hid in earlier. He wants to stay with Liam as long as possible. The tension in his muscles is gone and he pushes Louis out of his head, finding it easy to just focus on the brown eyed boy.  
  
Liam laughs, mouth widening. Zayn watches the veins in his neck expand and poke out. His teeth pierce his lip. He bites himself to retract them. He turns his head, trying to focus on something else. Maybe that’s what was telling him to come here.  
  
“Zayn,” Liam gasps. He reaches past him and presses his fingers into Zayn’s hair. “What happened to you?”  
  
“Hm?” Zayn responds as Liam pulls his fingers back. The tips are coated in blood, a brighter red than normal that would be flowing through Liam's. “Oh…”  
  
Liam’s eyes widen.“You need to get cleaned up.” He goes to twist Zayn around for a better view but Zayn stops him, knowing there will be nothing there.  
  
“I’m alright, Liam.”  
  
He huffs out in impatience, his lips pouting and brows knitting together. It’s amusing to watch. “You’ve probably gotten yourself a concussion. That explains why you’re actually talking to me without a frown on your face.” He grins slightly.  
  
“Maybe you can help me clean up?” Zayn suggests, ignoring the slight.  
  
“Definitely a concussion,” Liam sighs, but he tugs on Zayn’s shirt to follow him.  
  
“Are you taking me to your lair to kill me?” Zayn jokes as he follows after Liam, leaving the market place behind them.  
  
“Most likely,” Liam says casually. “My lair is quite close.”  
  
Zayn isn’t sure if it’s a good idea, to go anywhere with a strange human. But the only other option is home, and there’s nothing worse than that at the moment. And Zayn can’t ignore the feeling that washes over him when he is with Liam. Equally as powerful as the hunger that causes him to ache. It’s an internal battle inside of him, telling him he should stay yet he should leave. Leaving seems to be the worst option, so he doesn’t.  
  
They walk in silence for a few moments before Liam asks where the head injury came from.  
  
“I got into an argument with my … uh, brother and it turned a little ugly,” he says.  
  
Liam looks at him, frowning. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“For? You didn’t do anything,” Zayn responds, pushing his brows together. He really is a strange human, apologizing for something he had no part of.  
  
“That you fought with your brother. I’m sorry it happened.” He explains, smiling softly and grabbing Zayn’s wrist. His pulse vibrates against Zayn’s skin. “My flat is over this way.”  
  
Liam keeps his fingers on Zayn’s skin as he pulls him into the apartment building, a bit grungy but decent enough. At least, not out in the middle of nowhere like his home. He doesn’t let go of Zayn until they’re stepping into the lift. Zayn takes a deep breath as Liam leans against the wall of the elevator, a few feet away.  
  
“It’s not much,” Liam explains, leading him out of the elevator at the seventh floor after what seems like hours. Hours of torture. The distance between them was not enough to fade the thud of Liam’s heart. “Mrs. Ramir is a wonderful woman but she can only afford to pay me so much.”  
  
It’s not a bad place, actually. Not bad at all. It’s a small apartment, yes, but it’s clean and put together. The living room is just a couch, long enough for three, across from a small television. The kitchen, off to the left, is big enough for two people pressed against each other. There’s a small hallway that Liam pulls Zayn towards.  
  
The first door opens to a small bathroom and Liam pushes on Zayn’s shoulders so he sits on the edge of the bathtub. He leans down towards a cabinet below the sink and starts rummaging through. Zayn eyes the mirror above.  
  
“You don’t have to,” Zayn says, taking the first aid kit that appears in Liam’s hands. “But maybe you could get me something to eat or drink?”  
  
Liam opens his mouth slightly, as if to protest. He doesn’t, only hands over the first aid kit before leaving the bathroom.  
  
Zayn stands once Liam is gone, and faces the mirror. He presses a wet cloth to the back of his head, where the blood is drying into his hair. There is no wound, which Liam would have surely noticed. It is a sweet gesture though, one Zayn isn’t used to.  
  
He stares at the shower curtain’s reflection before dunking his head under the stream of water. Red tinted water circles the drain, staining the porcelain for only a moment. Watching it run away from him is captivating, teasing the ache that is inside of him.  
  
Liam’s footsteps echo through the hallway as he nears the bathroom and Zayn moves away from the path of the mirror, running the towel through his hair.  
  
“I’ll buy you new towels,” Zayn says sheepishly, looking at the blood staining the light colored cloth.  
  
“I have plenty more, it’s fine.” He offers the plate in his hands. Liam’s face lights up with amusement as Zayn nearly swallows the sandwich whole. The food doesn’t do anything for once. He has never been this hungry before.  
  
“You’ve got some…” Liam laughs, coming closer and wiping his thumb across the corner of Zayn’s mouth. Zayn’s senses rush with the scent of Liam, ears pounding as he listens to the blood rush through his veins. He circles his fingers around Liam’s wrist and pushes his thumb into his mouth, feeling the pulse against his tongue. The taste of skin is salty, mixed with a bit of mayonnaise. Liam pulls his bottom lip into his mouth as he watches Zayn with wide eyes.  
  
“Zayn,” Liam breathes. Zayn wonders if he can feel the vibration where their skin touches too, or if he is only delusional, mind warped from the last few hours. Zayn wraps his lips around the boy’s thumb, running his tongue over the flat of it. It’s so close to one of his canines it almost hurts his gums.  
  
Even if Zayn wants to let go of Liam, which he doesn’t want to, it’s like he cannot. There’s no controlling his fingers as they tighten, dragging Liam closer so their bodies are only centimeters away. Zayn can’t take his eyes off of Liam, staring at Zayn’s mouth. He wants to see Liam’s face when he pierces the skin. It’ll feel good, he thinks, for Liam.  
  
There’s a knock on Liam’s front door and Liam jerks out of Zayn’s grip. There’s a moment of shock on his face before he turns around and leaves without word.  
  
Zayn watches him go, fingers tensing into a fist, trying to calm the panic that is taking over. He almost bit Liam, a real, live human. It has been nearly his whole life time since he last bit a human, but there is something different about this time. He had had control before.  
  
He tightens his fingers on the sink, staring hard into the mirror until his body relaxes some, though he is still quite tense. The salt from Liam’s skin mingles on his tongue. He cups water in his hands and swishes it around in his mouth. It does nothing to help.  
  
“Who’s here?” Zayn hears from the living room. The voice isn’t familiar. And it isn’t human either. He pushes away from the sink quickly, a sense of protectiveness flooding him.   
  
It’s the blond boy that he had seen earlier, walking besides Louis. He’s not smiling this time.  
  
“This is Zayn. I met him at the marketplace,” Liam says. “This is Niall. An old friend of mine.”  
  
Zayn nods. He doesn’t want Liam to think he’s being rude but he has never met another vampire before. Louis had warned him against them. They’re dangerous and vicious, unlike their clan in every way.  
  
An old friend, Liam had said, but Zayn still moves a bit closer to Liam, just in case.  
  
“It’s nice to meet you, mate,” Niall says, the corner of his lips turning up. He must know what Zayn is, but he doesn’t show it now. “Li, Sean and Andy are in the car.”  
  
That’s all he says, yet Liam nods and goes towards the door, giving Zayn a quick look before disappearing into the hallway.  
  
The ghost of a smile is gone from Niall’s lips as Zayn turns to look at him, flying back. He had moved soundlessly, so close to Zayn that they were nearly touching chests.  
  
Niall snaps his arm forward, pushing Zayn backward. The force of the wall against his back pushes a groan out of him. The strength in his fingertips tell that he’s older, much older. "You’re stupid for comin’ here, lad,” he growls, fangs appearing between his lips.  
  
Zayn doesn’t respond. He isn’t sure what Niall is doing here, nor why he should care that he is around Liam.   
  
Niall tilts his head, pulling his lips back to show the extended canines. “Louis didn’t tell me you fed off of innocent humans.”  
  
“I wasn’t going to!” Zayn snaps angrily, guilt twisting his stomach. Louis hadn’t prepared him for these things, he shouldn’t have left. He should have just dealt with Harry. He closes his eyes and stops trying to force himself past Niall’s hand. It wasn’t working anyway.  
  
“Why’re you here then?” He doesn’t release his grip, only presses him harder into the wall. Zayn doesn’t react anymore. Today is too shitty of a day and it is starting to weigh heavily in his chest, adding more pressure than the blond vampire’s fingers.  
  
“Liam insisted,” Zayn sighs, not opening his eyes at first. The anger in Niall’s blue eyes just remind him of Louis. “He thought I was hurt and no wasn’t really an option.”  
  
Zayn opens his eyes when he hears a soft laugh. There’s a smile on his lips, and it is so contrastingly different than his threatening look. He releases his grip but Zayn still doesn’t move, just stares at him confused on why Niall just changed so quickly.   
  
“Sounds like our Liam.” He moves and Zayn flinches, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent gasping out. It’s quite embarrassing to be so afraid.  
  
He pulls a blood bag from his pocket and presses it to Zayn’s chest. “If you plan on runnin’ away from your clan, be prepared next time.”  
  
“I didn’t run –“  
  
Niall waves him off. “Don’t really care, mate. Just keep those fangs away from Liam, got it?” His eyes darken again and Zayn nods quickly. Niall smirks again. “I believe you. You shoulda seen your face when you came stormin’ out here. Murderous, I tell you.” Niall laughs loudly.  
  
Zayn stares blankly, hoping for an explanation that he doesn’t get. Niall just pushes him towards the bathroom, laughing as he does so.  
  
The day’s events wash away from his mind, everything focusing on the package in his hands. He rips through it before he enters the bathroom completely. It’s almost too much, the rush of power that fills ihm. It’s like a yawn, releasing the tension in the body, down his spine and to his fingertips. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now. It’s nearly gone in seconds.  
  
He must have slipped down to the floor because he leans his head back and it thuds gently against the door. He closes his eyes, feeling the blood rush through him.  
  
His senses clear, making it so he can focus on the area around him for the first time. It stinks, just like Liam. And Niall. The place is covered in the scent of the other vampire. Zayn wonders how frequent he comes. Maybe he lives here. Does Liam even know what he is? Niall looked animalistic when he had Zayn against the wall. It reminded him of when Louis first brought Harry around and Zayn had him pressed against the floor, fangs against his skin ready to rip his throat out. It was the same predatory look in the eyes.

Which is strange. Vampires normally don't become protective over humans, unless they need that human for some reason - food  
  
He hears Liam enter the apartment again. “Where’s Zayn?” he says.  
  
“Bathroom. Got a bit of a head rush or sumtin, thought he was going to get sick.” Niall must be aware that Zayn can hear them. “What happened to him anyway?”  
  
“Dunno. Won’t tell me,” Liam lies.  
  
There’s quiet for a moment and Zayn gets up, standing in front of the mirror again. It’s a strange form of comfort, even he knows that. But it works, for the most part.  
  
“Well, I’ll let you handle that. If you need me…yeah?” Zayn doesn’t hear a response, only the sound of the front door opening and shutting again.  
  
Zayn leaves the bathroom then. Liam is looking his way, but still looks surprised when he appears. “Oh, there you are. Feelin’ alright?”  
  
Zayn nods. “Yes, thank you. I should get going, though. Starting to get late…” He moves, to bring the plate into the kitchen but Liam stops him.  
  
“You know, I have an extra room you can stay in, if you don’t want to go back home just yet,” Liam offers. It’s so kind when he smiles that Zayn doesn’t want to say no.

But it's also dangerous, staying here with the boy whose skin can be broken open so easily. “Oh, I can’t… intrude on you.”  
  
“You really won’t be. I like the company, to be honest with you,” he explains, taking the plate from Zayn and bringing it into the kitchen. Zayn follows behind him. Liam talks easily, a smile tinting his lips at every word. “Niall and the lads only come around so often. It’s usually just me here, that’s why I go into town so much. Why I decided to get a job there, you know?”  
  
Zayn nods. He doesn’t really know. He is never alone, except for the few hours a day he gets in his bedroom, and then he isn’t truly alone. Louis and Harry can hear most of what he is doing, just as he can do with them.  
  
“Is that why you go to the marketplace?” Liam asks, turning on the water and running it over the plate.. “To get away from your family?”  
  
“A bit, yeah.” The truth in his words take him by surprise. “But that sounds a quite bit awful, doesn’t it?”  
  
“No, not at all. Sometimes you need a break from the people you love...”  
  
Zayn watches Liam as he cleans the plate. The feeling is there again, like he should be here, just watching Liam do domestic things like cleaning. “I would like to stay, please.”  
  
Liam looks up, smiling wide enough that his eyes crinkle again and Zayn's doubts about staying fade away.  
  
“But don’t expect anything from me after you refused to go to dinner with me.”  
  
Liam whips around and splashes Zayn with the water left on his hands. “If I recall correctly, I made you dinner!”  
  
“I would hardly call that dinner, Liam,” he bates. “It was a sandwich, with a lot of mayonnaise.”  
  
“Well if you’re going to be rude, I take back my invitation for our slumber party.”  
  
Zayn’s eyes widen. Joking has never been his strong point.

“I am joking,” he clarifies, pulling him out of the kitchen. His fingers are warm from the hot water and Zayn can hear his heartbeat, feel his pulse against his wrist again. But it isn’t the same this time. Zayn doesn’t need to sink his teeth in and taste Liam, but he would still very much like to taste him. Even if it’s just his tongue rolling against his skin. 

Zayn bites his lip, surprising himself with that thought. He focuses on Liam’s lips as he talks, not hearing him. His bottom lip a bit plumper than the top and Zayn bets it is as soft as it looks.

“Zayn?” Liam says, snapping him to. He has opened the door to one of the rooms in the hallway. He gives Zayn a strange look before pulling him inside.

“Everything is cleaned so you won’t have to worry about the sheets or anything…er, there’s probably soap and shampoo in the closet. Um, you can help yourself to anything in here, or the apartment really… I don’t have much…” Liam trails off.

“Liam, you have Superman sheets.”

Red rushes to Liam’s cheeks. “Well, yes, but I didn’t have a plain spare….”

“Are your sheets Batman?”

Liam blushes even harder now, blood rushing to the surface of his skin and it is such a lovely shade of pink that Zayn has to keep himself from reaching out and brushing a thumb against it. “No, they are just blue. Unfortunately, my Batman sheets needed to be thrown away.”

Zayn laughs and Liam turns as if he is leaving. He panics, almost grabbing Liam’s wrist and yanking him back. Having Liam next to him comforted him more than the mirror. “Thank you for your kindness, Liam. But can I ask you one more favor?”

“Yes, of course. Anything."

“Could you not leave me, at least not yet...?”

Liam quirks up on of his eyebrows. “Should it be I that is worried about your intentions?”

Zayn smirks. “Yes, you should.” Once he says it, he realizes he doesn’t know how he means it.

Liam stays with Zayn, after bringing his Xbox in from the living room. He shows Zayn how to play Batman: Asylum, but to be honest, Zayn enjoys watching Liam more. The way he bites his bottom lip in concentration, his fingers flying over the buttons at what would seem to be an inhuman speed. It’s nice, just having someone else there, so much so that Zayn falls asleep watching him, curled up with his knees pressed against Liam’s back.

When he wakes in the morning, he is alone, but he can hear Liam’s feet padding along the kitchen floor. He’s humming something, an Usher song possibly. The house is filled with the scent of bacon. But there’s another scent mixed in. The scent of blood.

Zayn sits up, rubbing his eyes and sees the bag placed next to the Xbox. There’s a small post it note on it, blank except for a single ‘N’. He takes it as an okay to stay. Though, it could possibly be just a safety precaution. He isn’t sure of what Niall’s placement in Liam’s life is yet.

He grabs it with shower supplies and tip toes to the bathroom. He feels sneaky, sucking down the bag while in the shower so Liam can’t accidentally find out. It’s never been a shameful act before. Every step Liam takes, Zayn thinks he is going to come into the bathroom and find him.

When he emerges, Liam pokes his head around the wall dividing the kitchen and the living room. “Hungry?” he asks, flashing Zayn a box of pancakes mix.

Zayn leans against the doorway, watching Liam. “Do you normally take in creepy strangers off of the street and then provide them a bed and pancakes and bacon in the morning?”

“Don’t forget the eggs,” Liam responds, leaning his head towards the stove, where the eggs are sizzling besides the bacon. “And only if they are attractive.”

He looks at Zayn after that, who is thankful his cheeks can’t burn like humans' can. His eyes furrow before reaching out to him and wiping his thumb across the corner of his lips “Did you shave? Got a bit of blood…”

Zayn freezes. “I- oh, yeah. Must, have missed some.”

“I don’t remember seeing you with facial hair,” Liam responds, not stepping away. He must have showered right before Zayn. The scent of the body wash Zayn had just used was heavy on Liam’s skin.

“Because I shave,” Zayn throws back, smirking at the boy.

Liam considers this. “I think you would look nice with facial hair.” He says before going back to the food.  
  
“If I grow a beard I’ll look even more like a creep.”  
  
This makes Liam laugh and pride swells in Zayn’s chest.

 

 

Harry leans against the kitchen counter, listening to Louis’ pacing back and forth down the corridor, in Zayn’s room. He can hear the dull sound of the phone ringing over and over again. Each time followed by Zayn’s voicemail, ending with a frustrated cuss word leaving Louis mouth.  
  
Harry had kept Louis from going after Zayn when he left the night before. It was selfish of him, and as much as he wants Zayn to come back, he doesn’t want Louis to go chasing him. The terms and conditions of Zayn’s return may cause a problem for Harry.  
  
But he can’t do anything to stop Louis’ panic and stubbornness. He didn’t sleep the night before. Harry estimates he has called Zayn at least a hundred or so times. No response nor Zayn sending them to voicemail. Nothing at all.  
  
“Niall, I’ve been calling for hours-“  
  
“I haven’t seen your Zayn, Louis -“  
  
“The human-“  
  
“It’s Liam.“  
  
“Whatever-“

Louis never told Harry who Niall is, but he hadn't been born yesterday. He can put two and two together. Louis spoke of a new vampire clan in town, carting around a human they did nothing with. Harry doesn’t know why Zayn would go to a new clan, but Harry doesn’t know why Zayn does anything. He has always been a mystery that has done nothing but shut him out. Harry wishes he could know the Zayn that Louis talks about, late at night when he tells Harry stories of their lives before him.

Harry flinches when Louis throws his phone, cussing over the clatter against the wall. He appears only a few seconds later, face falling when he sees Harry.

“Haz…” he groans, pressing his forehead against the curve of Harry’s neck. His voice is muffled. “He’s never left before. And he never ignores my calls. What if he doesn’t come back?”

Harry wraps his arms around the older vampire, curling one of his hands around the back of his neck. “He will come back, Louis. We are his family.”

Louis looks up, his eyes red rimmed and watery. “You don’t know that Hazza, but thank you for trying.”

Harry presses a kiss to his forehead, keeping his lips there until Louis lets out a shuttered breath.

Harry hopes Zayn comes back, at least so he doesn’t have to see Louis this way ever again.

 

 

Zayn shuts his phone off, watching the missed calls disappear as the screen blackens. Liam sits beside him on the couch. He had the day off of work and invited Zayn to spend the day with him. He couldn’t say no, especially after Liam stayed when Zayn was afraid of being alone the night before.  
  
“Your brother?” Liam asks, not taking his eyes off of the television. “Maybe you should tell him you’re okay, if nothing else.”  
  
Zayn shakes his head. He doesn’t want Louis to worry but he can’t find himself caring at the moment. Not with Liam beside him.  
  
He feels something strange in his gut when he looks at the human boy. Zayn’s never bonded with anyone, other than Louis. It can’t be normal to feel so comforted by someone after just meeting.  
  
“I rather not talk to him at all,” Zayn tells him. Liam doesn’t push him, but presses his fingers against the palm of Zayn’s hand. It’s a comforting gesture, paired with a kind smile. Liam takes the phone and shoves it into his side of the couch.  
  
“I demand your undivided attention than.” Liam’s lips crack into a grin.  
  
“Easy,” Zayn responds, pulling his knees to his chest and twisting his body so he faces Liam.  
  
“You’re strange, you know,” he says. It’s definitely not what Zayn is expecting, and it doesn't seem cruel either. “You always have this expression on your face, makes me think you’ve never had a friend before.”  
  
“I haven’t,” Zayn says. “Does that mean you are mine?”  
  
Liam looks at him in disbelief before laughing loudly. He throws his head back, eyes completely closed as the sound leaves his lips. Zayn smiles at the boy, but isn’t sure of why he is laughing so hard.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Liam’s laughter dies as he looks at Zayn, but his face is still glowing with amusement. “But are you serious?”  
  
Zayn nods, still not understanding. “I have Louis…my, er brother.”  
  
“Well, now you have two.”

It’s a simple statement, even a bit corny, but it slips into Zayn’s brain and attaches itself there. When Liam looks away and back at the television, the words swarm around his brain.

He used to watch little kids in the marketplace, running around together, playing tag or play fighting. It wasn’t clear whether they were brothers or friends, but Zayn guessed you could be both at the same time. Joy radiated off of the children from the simple interaction. Their frowns were momentary, forced away from a laugh or a hug from the other. Maybe that’s why Liam’s smile already affects him, because he’s his first true friends and that’s what they’re supposed to do.  
  
“Hopefully I’m not a shit friend,” Liam says, pulling Zayn away from his thoughts. “I am actually not that exciting. I watch a lot of television, Netflix, and movies.” He pushes off of the couch and opens a cabinet underneath the TV, built into the stand. It’s packed with DVD cases. “There’s more in the guest bedroom’s closet.”  
  
“I like watching television,” Zayn states, hoping to reassure him.  
  
“Have you watched Supernatural?”  
  
Zayn laughs awkwardly. “No.”  
  
Liam’s eyes bulge from his head. “What the hell shows are you watching then?” He pulls out a battered DVD box and unfolds it, pulling out a disc. “I guess we are going to have a marathon then.”

Their marathon goes uninterrupted for a while. Well, Zayn wants to talk to Liam but he is absorbed into the show. Every time Zayn speaks, Liam hits pause. Zayn doesn’t mind though, he’s enjoying the show, enjoying being in Liam’s home.  
  
It is interrupted eventually though, by Niall, who enters Liam’s flat without knocking. Liam doesn’t seem to notice but Zayn hears him, turning to face the blond, who looks ready to pounce on Liam.  
  
Zayn opens his mouth to warn Liam but Niall’s hand snakes out faster than he can, flicking Liam in the back of the neck. It’s not hard and probably wasn’t painful, but Zayn wants to knock the other vampire to the ground.  
  
“You scared me!” Liam shrieks, flipping around to Niall, who is cackling loudly, hands clutching his stomach.  
  
“Easy to do,” Niall says, hopping over the couch and landing gracefully between them.  
  
Liam grumbles incoherently, pulling his feet from under Niall’s bum, where he had been resting his feet against Zayn. “We are watching Supernatural."  
  
Niall groans, looking at Zayn sympathetically. “I’m sorry mate. He’s never going to let you stop until you’ve seen them all fourteen times.”  
  
Liam hits him hard in the shoulder. “Shut up, you love this show.”  
  
“I don’t mind, really,” Zayn butts in. Liam gives him a small smile.  
  
“Gross,” Niall says, looking back and forth from Liam to Zayn. He pushes himself up from the couch. “How about we play a game? What’s that one – with the zombies - Left For Death?”  
  
“Dead,” Liam corrects. There’s a hint of annoyance in his voice. “The Xbox is in the other room, though.”  
  
“No problem,” Niall says. “Zayn, come help?”  
  
Zayn looks at Liam for a moment but Liam doesn’t make eye contact as he starts turning off Supernatural. He leaves slowly, following behind Niall who has already taken off down the hallway.

Niall’s face is fixed in concentration, staring at the Xbox when he enters. “How d’hell do you even move this thing?” he asks, bewildered. He tugs at a black cord that juts out of the television and has nothing to do with the Xbox at all.  
  
“I’ll do it,” Zayn tells him, slipping between him and the television stand. Niall opens the closet and starts to dig through a clear Rubbermaid pressed against the wall. It’s filled with DVD cases and Zayn sees at least three more, the exact same.  
  
“Did you get my note, this morning?” Niall’s says from the closet. He is keeping his voice soft, but Zayn still hears it as if he is speaking regularly.  
  
“Yes, thank you,” Zayn answers politely.  
  
Niall stands up with an Xbox game in his hand, a bag of blood in the other. “I’ve brought you some more. I don’t know how long you are stayin’ here but if it’s until after dark, you’ll be needin’ to feed again.”

Zayn puts down the game console and takes the bag from the older vampire. “I don’t feel like leaving.” It’s like dipping his toe in the water to test the temperature. He isn’t sure how Niall is going to react. He seems protective over Liam, yet is letting another vampire be around him unsupervised. It’s confusing.  
  
“I didn’t expect you to,” is what the boy responds with. “Your Louis has been blowing up my phone asking about where you are because he thinks I know.” He touches Zayn’s shirt and then his own. “My scent lingern’ on you and allat. But, I don’t get involved in other clan’s business, so I don’t care where you go or if you stay here, as long as you don’t lay a harmful finger on Liam.”  
  
Zayn presses the bag of blood to his lips to wash away the heaviness settling in his chest from the mention of Louis. He wants to ask about him, if he seems upset, what kind of questions he is asking. He doesn’t want Louis to be upset, but he wants to be here with Liam, even if he can’t explain it. And Louis will never be able to understand that. Just like Louis isn’t going to make Harry leave just because Zayn doesn’t want to be around him.  
  
“I won’t, but I’m really confused,” Zayn admits.  
  
Niall claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t expect an explanation, mate. I stay out of your clan business, and you’ll stay out of mine.”

 

Zayn has been at Liam’s for a week. He fits into Liam’s routine nicely. When Liam is at work, he has full range of the flat. He doesn’t leave, afraid that Louis will find him. Liam doesn’t ask about him, and he’s glad. He doesn’t feel angry anymore, not really. But he doesn't want to return either. There's something tying him to Liam, and it feels right. Better than being at the house did.

Niall brings him blood every few hours, saying he comes regularly to check up on Liam anyway. He never explains, nor hints at it, and Zayn stops asking questions. His questions were futile anyway since he was too nervous about Niall potentially getting angry with him.  
  
Usually Zayn falls asleep beside Liam on the couch, watching Supernatural. He’s gotten quite far into it, and he’s found he enjoys it – even the vampire episodes.

Zayn finds Liam in the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel after washing the dishes.  
  
“Liam,” Zayn laughs. At the base of the sink lay a small pile of every spoon in the flat.  
  
“Hmm?” Liam’s eyes follow where Zayn is pointing. “Oh, well… to I have to be to work soon, so…”  
  
Zayn stares blankly at him. Liam doesn’t have to be to work for another two hours. “If you have a problem with spoons, Liam, you can just ask me to wash them. I promise, I won’t judge you too much.”  
  
Liam frowns at him. “Well, when the water hits the curvy part it splatters everywhere!” he tries.  
  
Zayn gives him a doubtful look, shoving him over with his hip to turn on the water. "There’s worse things in the world, Liam.”  
  
“Very few things that are worse than when your clothes are wet but the rest of you isn't!”  
  
Zayn laughs loudly because it's stupid but so cute his chest swells. The spoon in his hand turns. The water slips across the curve of the spoon and shoots up, covering the bottom of Zayn’s shirt. He jumps back, letting the spoon clatter into the sink.  
  
“See! Told you!” Liam says, jumping away from Zayn.  
  
Zayn cups his hand under the stream of water and flings it towards Liam, so it splatters across his chest. Liam shrieks, moving farther away, but not before punching Zayn hard in the shoulder. It doesn’t hurt, only makes him laugh louder.  
  
He hits him again with another splash, the water soaking through his shirt and sticking to his skin. Liam shrieks once more, hopping out of the kitchen.  
  
“Not funny!” Liam calls from the living room. Zayn can hear the smile in his voice before he sees it.  
  
The laughter dies in throat when he joins him in the living room because Liam is pulling the shirt over his head.  
  
Zayn wouldn’t have expected Liam to be all muscle underneath his clothes. Though, he had seen the muscles that bulged in Liam’s arms when he flexed his fingers over the game controller, or placed them behind his head when they were watching TV and that was enough to leave Zayn breathless.  
  
But it’s Liam’s skin that really stands out, seeing so much at one time. It is smooth and tanned, only covered by a few patches of hair along his chest. Zayn’s eyes follow along the path of the hair where it disappears below his belt.  
  
“You’re really beautiful,” Zayn blurts, his voice quiet with awe. He doesn’t regret the words as he watches the heat rise up Liam’s chest and to his cheeks.  
  
Liam clears his throat. “Well, um, thank you. But, I – uh – should put on another shirt. Work soon."  
  
Zayn only nods, watching the boy turn around and go off to the hallway. He keeps his eyes on the muscles snaking across his back, traveling down his spine and dipping into the curve of his bum. He feels a need to press his lips along Liam’s spine. He doesn't make a move though, the compliment could be too much already. He doesn’t want to over step his boundaries and have Liam kick him out.

When Liam leaves for work, in a hurry, Zayn settles onto the couch and turns on the telly. He doesn't pay attention to the Winchester brothers. His mind occupied with thoughts of his lips against the skin of the human boy. Feeling him shutter underneath him as Zayn's lips trail every part of skin.  
  
There’s tension in his body, thinking about the boy. He drinks the blood he had saved from earlier, but it does nothing to release it. Frustrated, he curls up onto the couch again and pushes Liam out of his mind until he falls asleep. The boy slips easily back into his head.

Zayn wakes, the room dark except for the glow of the television. It's been muted, and a blanket lays over the top of him. He shifts, trying to hear for Liam.  
  
"Did I wake you?"  
  
Liam sits at the end of the couch, pressing against Zayn's feet. His legs are curled up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around, holding them there.  
  
Zayn shrugs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He sits up, shifting closer to Liam. The clock under the television reads only ten, though it feels much later. Liam has already been home for a bit.  
Liam is watching him quietly. Zayn groans, resting his body so his limbs are touching Liam's. There's something off about the boy tonight. "What's wrong, Liam?"  
  
Liam doesn't say anything. His eyes move across Zayn's face. Zayn wants to ask him more questions but refrains. It's nice to be look at Liam's face, too.  
  
It's after a handful of seconds that Liam finally speaks, his voice nearly a whisper. He doesn't look away when he speaks. It feels intimate.  
  
"Do you really think I am beautiful?"  
Zayn nods without hesitation, though surprised by Liam's question. "Yes. Very," he responds. He wants to reach out and touch every part of Liam's skin, telling him just how much.  
  
Liam nods, looking away. It's a few minutes later before Liam stands. Zayn watches him, wishing he could read the boy's mind. Or at least ask him more questions. But before he can, Liam cuts him off with a good night.


	3. Chapter 3

Liam’s question makes itself into Zayn’s head, refusing to leave. Liam always seems confident, if not just comfortable, with everything he does – not worried about what reactions he might get. But when he asked Zayn if he really thought he was beautiful, he looked so vulnerable. So un-like Liam. 

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it is satisfying that Liam might have spent the rest of the day thinking about Zayn’s compliment. 

The next morning, everything is the same. Liam makes breakfast with a warm smile, eating with him at the table before getting ready for work again and leaving Zayn alone. He isn’t sure what exactly he is expecting, just some kind of acknowledgement of the night before. Some explanation of Liam's strange behavior. 

After Liam leaves, he curls up in the blanket Liam had thrown over him the night before. It usually hangs over the side of the couch, and Liam’s scent is there but faded. 

There’s something hard poking his spine. He tries to ignore it. The raggity couch isn't the most comfortable thing he's ever been on.

It’s his cell phone, in the side of the couch where Liam had shoved it. He presses the on button, expecting the battery to have run out.

It lights up, notifications popping up. The number grows, nearly taking two minutes until it stops, leaving Zayn with over a hundred text messages. Most of them from Louis and a handful of Harry’s. Harry’s consist of asking him to text Louis back. He apologizes that Zayn is upset, but he deletes it without a second thought. He doesn't want to hear anything Harry has to say. 

Zayn’s finger hovers over Louis’ name for a moment. He wants to read them, to know Louis is upset that he is gone. But he can’t deny he misses Louis. He's missed his Louis for a long time.

There’s hurt coating each text message. Louis is hurting that he’s gone, but it doesn’t make him feel good. It hurts, more than he thinks it should. Louis has messaged him every day, a handful of times, asking him to come home – telling Zayn he’s missed him. Louis is never mushy, ever.

_we r family Zayn u don’t get do this. we need u. I’m sorry pls come home I miss u._

And as good as it is to hear that Zayn still matters, he doesn’t want to leave Liam. It seems silly, feeling so connected to a boy that he’s only known a few weeks instead of his family, who he has spent his whole life with.

Zayn sinks down in the couch, wanting to get rid of the tightness in his chest that is moving its way up to his throat. His fingers hover over the keyboard as his eyes reread Louis’ message over and over again. It's the worst one. They are family, and despite everything, Zayn still feels that way.

“I miss you too,” he texts back before turning off his phone and shoving it back into the side of the couch. He wishes that was enough. 

               

Liam shuffles into the flat, his feet aching from being on them all day. It doesn’t help that he nearly runs home every night. The day goes by slowly when he works, yet on his days off, spending them with Zayn, they go by too quickly.

The television is on, but Zayn is not in the living room. Liam bites his lip. Maybe Zayn finally decided he wanted to go home. There is nothing wrong with that, of course. Liam has no right to expect him to stay. Especially after acting so weird the night before.

But Zayn is still there. And it's like a wave of relief when he pops his head out of the kitchen, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. Liam thinks he likes that Zayn is there because he always looks so happy when Liam comes home. It could just be Zayn, but Liam will live in the fantasy that it's him that makes Zayn happy. 

 “I thought you’d left,” Liam says.

“What? Why would I?” Zayn says, looking at Liam like he is bizarre.

"I dunno. You're not required to stay," Liam responds. 

"But I want to. That is alright, yeah?" 

"Of course. I want you to."

 Zayn gives him a long look, and Liam wants to blurt out the words on his tongue. He'd rather not have Zayn change his mind though, so he keeps them to himself.

“I thought I’d make dinner, but I’m an absolute shit cook," Zayn finally says, turning back into the kitchen.

Liam looks on the stove where there’s over cooked macaroni, hardened and stuck to the pot. “Just macaroni?” he asks, seeing nothing else.

Zayn shrugs, resting his back against the counter. In the bright light of the kitchen, Liam sees the skin underneath Zayn’s eyes is swollen and red. Nothing else seems off though, a smile in his eyes and on his lips. 

“How was your day?” Liam asks.

 He shrugs, the smile not leaving his lips. “Fine. Did nothing, per usual.”

Liam wraps his fingers around Zayn’s wrist. He likes the way that Zayn’s smile grows a little bigger every time he does. His skin is always cool to the touch, so different than the warmth of his own skin whenever he is with Zayn. “Everything alright, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he responds. There is no reason to suggest he is lying except the sudden tension in his arms, but it disappears almost immediately.

“Maybe you should come to the marketplace with me tomorrow. Get some fresh air?”

“No, Liam. I’m okay,” he promises, pushing away from the counter. He rests his fingertips against Liam’s hip as he speaks. His fingers are cold too, even through the fabric of Liam’s work shirt. “Just a bit tired. You did wake me up mid-slumber.”

Liam feels the heat rise to his face. He had been hoping that Zayn had completely forgotten the night before, perhaps thought of it as a dream.

“It was only ten!” Liam says back.

“Details,” Zayn says.

Zayn gives him a look, one that Liam has deemed the ‘Zayn Look’. There’s something in his eyes, like surprise and something else. Liam hasn’t figured it out, but it makes his breath catch in his throat every time.

“Maybe you should order pizza or something.”

 “Maybe,” he responds, clearing his throat.

 

 

It’s a few weeks later when Liam finally convinces Zayn he should go to the marketplace with him.

“Going outside is good for you, Zayn,” Liam tries, tugging on his arm. “The sun will make you less grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy,” Zayn defends.

“You might be when I’m not here,” Liam tries. He links his fingers through Zayn’s and tugs gently. He keeps quiet about how he is always grumpy when Liam is gone. “C’mon.”

Zayn follows, not sure if it’s the warmth of Liam’s hand that is the winning argument or not.

Liam hands him a coat. “It’s gotten quite cold outside,” he says. Zayn puts it on, though he knows he doesn’t need it. Even snow feels warm against his cold skin. Liam waits for him to put the coat on before linking their fingers again.

The drop in temperature is still noticeable, despite the warmth Zayn feels. He can see the way Liam’s muscles tense when they step outside. He slips his hands into his pockets, pulling Zayn’s hand with him.

“You don’t have to hold my hand, you know,” Zayn says. He regrets it as soon as the words slip out, fearful that Liam is going to let go. But the boy only squeezes his fingers.

“It’ll ruin my plan if I don’t.”

He doesn’t complain. This way, he is pressed against Liam’s side as they walk.

It dawns on him how much he has missed the market place. It’s different, traveling through the people with someone else. He is no longer alone amongst people, but with Liam, turning and looking at him with a smile every few moments, as if to make sure he is still there. As if their fingers pressed together is not enough.

They are heading towards the thrift shop. Even though Zayn never travels in this direction, he can tell. Liam is looking at him even more now, energy running through him, and Zayn realizes his plan.

Liam squeezes his fingers tighter and nearly yanks him closer to the thrift shop. Zayn’s body starts to tense. “It’s okay,” Liam says. He doesn’t know what makes Zayn so nervous, and he hasn’t asked. And he’s glad because he’s not so sure himself. Liam’s voice is calm and patient, and Zayn finds his feet moving easily behind Liam’s.

The old woman is dressed in a thick coat, a scarf wrapped around her neck, with a knit hat to pull it altogether. She’s a bit old to be out in this brisk of weather and Zayn wants to carry her inside somewhere warm.

“Liam,” the old lady greets. Zayn has never been this close. He squeezes Liam’s fingers and he squeezes back. “You have off today. Can’t stay away, can you?”

Liam pulls Zayn right up to the old woman, so close he can see the deep wrinkles scattering her face. “I can’t,” he responds kindly. He turns to Zayn and gives him a warm smile. “This is Zayn, the boy I was telling you about. Zayn, this is Mrs. Ramir.”

The woman’s smile is extremely kind as she reaches her hand out. Zayn reaches the hand not occupied with Liam’s but it’s ignored as the woman places her fragile hand on Zayn’s shoulder and presses a hug to him.

“It is so nice to finally meet you, Zayn. I was wondering when you were finally going to come by.” Mrs. Ramir’s voice is still kind, though teasing. Zayn can only nod in response.

“I’m going to get us coffee,” Liam says, pressing his fingers to Zayn’s skin to reassure him. The panic must be clear on his face. He walks away without letting Zayn come with him, and he stares after Liam like a lost puppy.

“C’mon boy,” Mrs. Ramir says, walking towards the corner of stand. There’s a small table there, lined with statuettes and jewelry. A few boxes holding artwork of some kind are underneath the table.

“Liam told me you enjoy artwork,” she says. He hadn’t ever told Liam that, nor had he drawn anything while staying at his flat. “Are you familiar with your culture?”

Zayn shakes his head. He didn’t even know what his culture was, what ethnicity he was. He sees the tan of his skin, and the dark of his body hair, the shape of his features. It was only Louis’ guess at his ethnicity that gave him a clue, and that was only a shot in the dark.

“Find something that really stands out to you, and you can have it, yeah?”

Zayn doesn’t know what to say. But the woman doesn’t seem to expect an answer as she leaves Zayn to go back to where a customer waits for her at the cash register.

He doesn’t know enough about any culture, really. They’ve traveled, but usually at night, looking for shelter. It was dangerous to interact with humans.

There are many things before him. Different symbols, some on animals, painted an assortment of colors and patterns. Some of the patterns had stars and a moon. He likes those ones the best.

He kneels down, pulling out one of the boxes of artwork from underneath the table. There are paintings and drawings, some that look older than him. There’s one that catches his eye though, half way through.

It isn’t the best of art work among all the other pieces, but every paintbrush stroke can be seen, blending together. There’s a tiger in the middle, lying among the grass. It’s abstract, as the tiger is at odd angle, looking almost as if it was thrown onto the parchment. There’s a blending of oranges, greens and browns. It feels familiar almost.

“Is that the one, then?” Mrs. Ramir asks, standing above him.

Zayn stands up, feeling the parchment in his fingers. “Ah, yes…please.”

She takes the parchment from his fingers and rolls it with ease. She pulls a tube from the back of the box and slips the parchment into it. “Maybe this will help you find what you are looking for.”

“What – I don’t know what you mean, m’am.” Zayn’s body tenses. He doesn’t know this woman yet she seems to know the one problem in his life.

Mrs. Ramir looks across the way, where the back of Liam’s head can barely be seen amongst the crowd at the café. “Liam talks about you a lot,” she says. “He says you look lost sometimes.”

Zayn watches the muscles tense in his fingers as he grips the tube holding his painting. He doesn’t know how to respond – doesn’t know how Liam would even guess that.

“Do you think this will…help?” He indicates the painting.

“Does it feel like it does?” She responds simply, the smile still on her lips.

It does, somehow. Like the feeling he feels when it’s just Liam and him. He looks up for Liam, who is looking at him as he walks across the street. A warm feeling settles in his chest and he smiles at the older woman. “Yeah, it does.”

               

Harry circles his fingertips against Louis’ bare skin. As he sleeps, his breath is even and slow. Calmer than it was before he fell asleep. Tears stain the pillow case still and Harry wishes they would fade faster. It’s like this every night nearly. Every night Zayn doesn’t come home, Louis is grumpy. But tonight he had yelled at Harry, throwing the pot full of Alfredo against the wall. Harry couldn’t help tearing up. Louis never, ever gets mad at him.

Louis had apologized for being upset. It wasn’t anything he had done. Harry had just suggested they stay in for the day, instead of going to the marketplace, waiting for Zayn to maybe show up. It’s been weeks and he has yet to. Any scent of him has completely faded from there, even from his spot at the café.

Harry isn’t allowed to stay in the house by himself, so he’s dragged there every day. It’s not that he doesn’t want Zayn back, but Zayn left because of him. Surely Harry being there when Louis tries to convince him will not be the best of ideas?

Louis had agreed to stay in, but he was on edge all day. Harry tried to cuddle on the couch but Louis was constantly flipping through his phone, reading the one message Zayn had sent a few weeks before. Louis had called nonstop for hours after receiving the message, but to no avail. Zayn’s phone had been shut back off. Harry wonders if he had texted just to be an ass, or if he really is missing them too. But if he is, why won’t he come home?

He feels guilty, for being the reason Zayn hurts. He didn’t know about Louis and Zayn until a few years after moving in. It hurts him too, sharing Louis. Louis tells him that he is Harry’s, but he supposes that maybe Louis is Zayn’s too. Maybe they are all each other’s.

Harry bites back the tears in his eyes, not wanting to wake Louis. It had taken awhile for him to calm down, and Louis being upset is the worst thing Harry has ever seen.


	4. Chapter 4

Liam brings Zayn his coffee and a tea for Mrs. Ramir. It’s made exactly how he likes, though he doesn’t remember telling Liam how he takes his coffee. Liam watches him take a sip and Zayn gives him a thumbs up of approval.

“What d'you have there, Zayn?” Liam asks, pointing to the rolled up poster in his hands.

“The painting,” Mrs. Ramir says as if they have spoken of it before.

Apparently they have, since Liam responds. “The tiger one?” She nods. “I told you he would like that one the best.”

Zayn stares at the two of them. “You’ve planned this?”

“Dear.” Mrs. Ramir places a hand on his shoulder and it’s motherly like. He thinks. That’s what he’s seen in movies, at least. “You chose the poster. How could we have planned that?”

Zayn gives her a skeptical look. He’s not sure how he feels about Liam and the older woman talking about him at work. He likes thinking that he is on Liam’s mind when they are away from each other, because Liam is always on his. But what if Liam actually complains about him? What if they discuss what a sorry lad he is?

“Well, I thank you,” he says to the older woman. “It is very nice of you.”

She smiles sweetly. “You are welcome. Now you two go and get out of here and let me run this shop!”

Liam takes Zayn’s wrist as they do just that. Zayn keeps the poster close to him, not wanting anything to happen to it.

“I want to show you something,” he says. They head in the direction of Liam’s apartment. “It’s why I brought you here. Thought it was cool. Kind of creepy, like you. So I figured you’d like it.”

Zayn mocks being offended. “When are you going to stop making that joke?” It'd be annoying, if Liam's eyes didn't light up with laughter everytime he said it. 

Liam shrugs, his bottom lip sticking out into a slight pout. “Probably never.”

Liam brings him to right outside of the market place, before they enter the neighborhood. There’s a small park, if you call it that. There’s a few trees and a battered old swing set that looks more like a death trap than an enjoyable children’s toy. Altogether, it's a bit smaller than Liam's apartment.

They stop at the trees. They don’t seem to fit there, with a busy marketplace on one side, and an assortment of apartment buildings on the other. The grass around them is a yellow green color, and the trees leaves have all fallen and disappeared, leaving the trees bare and dead looking.

“Here,” Liam says, standing in front of a tree. It’s slightly behind the others. He walks to the side of it and presses his finger to the bark.

Zayn stands beside him. Underneath Liam’s fingertip there’s a carving into the wood. It’s a heart, messily done. Inside are the words ‘Payne + Malik’. The words seem familiar to him, but he can’t place where he’s heard them. Maybe a television show of something of that sort. It's nothing outstanding to him but Liam is looking at him like an eager little puppy. So he forces his face to look completely amazed. 

“Er…cool, yeah…”

Liam frowns at him. “That’s my last name. Payne.”

Zayn feels like his heart is going to drop into his stomach. Why would Liam show him something like this?  “Oh…yeah, no, cool.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “No, I didn’t write that. My great grandfather did. He lived here a long time ago,” he explains. “The woman wasn’t his wife, I don’t think. My father told me they were from here and then I found this. It has to be him. He was the last one in my family to live here.”

 Zayn presses his fingers against the M. He's glad Liam isn't showing him some carving he did when he was a young boy with some girl he knew. Or worse, recently.

 "That is cool,” he says, meaning it this time. He likes the way the names look together, carved into the tree. “I didn’t know you weren’t from here.”

“Yeah, I moved here a few days before I started at the marketplace.”

Zayn wants to ask more questions but he also wants to move closer and press Liam to the tree with his body. Liam is standing too close, his fingers grazing against Zayn's arm here and there when he speaks. It may seem like nothing, but that and the excitement glowing from his face is driving Zayn a bit mad. But, he doesn’t do either. He’ll settle now, with just looking at Liam.

 “Maybe we should go put your poster up, yeah?” Liam says, turning to him with a smile on his face that makes Zayn smile too.

 

Niall watches Liam show Zayn the tree. He remembers when it was carved, one of the most detailed memories he has. There had been more trees at that time, almost nothing but trees. A large forest stretching through the marketplace and towards the house Zayn has always lived in. He had made sure those few ones didn’t get cut down when the area was being cleared for the marketplace a few decades back. It was his idea for the park. There are just some memories he isn’t willing to lose.

He always stays close to Liam. Because Liam is his to protect, he had promised. It was an easy promise to keep. Liam never strays far or dabbles in dangerous affairs. And he’s a helluva lad, kind and funny. But he doesn’t need to protect Liam from himself, but from other vampires. Even from his own clan, who Niall trusts with his own life. But not that of a human’s. Vampires make mistakes, get a little carried away. The risk isn't worth it.

Niall knows he can trust Zayn. There’s something about him. Probably the way his face turns to mush the moment Liam is in his line of eye sight. Zayn mimics Liam’s movements and Niall isn’t too sure that he realizes it. Liam turns to look left, Zayn looks the same way. Liam shifts his body, Zayn parellels him, like a string holding them together. It’s annoying yet expected, given the history. It's like Liam is encoded into the young vampire’s DNA.

And if it weren't for that, he would feel bad keeping Zayn's location from Louis. He understands how he feels. He too would go mad if one of his clan left him for another. Especially if they had already lost a member. He remembers when Stan was killed. Not by his clan. It was deserved, according to the vamp code, as Niall calls it. Louis doesn't know when to quit, when to stop joking.

It's like having a limb taken off, when you lose a member of the clan. It's never fully the same, and new members can't fully replace them. But he thinks maybe now that Zayn has found Liam, it would be a lot worse if he were to force them away from each other. Like losing internal organs that are necessary but can't be replaced.

Niall turns away, letting the two have their privacy. Maybe he’ll take a much needed vacation, go back home to Ireland and check up on the Horans. Liam is in good enough hands.

             

“It looks nice there.”

Liam is looking up at the painting, where it’s placed above the bed’s headboard. He’s only being nice. It doesn’t go in the room at all, not with the Superman sheets and matching collectibles littering the room. There’s a Jay-Z poster on the back of the door that Liam told him he could take down, but he kind of likes it there.

“Now it’s officially your room.”

Liam’s expression doesn’t change when he says this, but Zayn knows his does. He stares at the boy’s until Liam turns his head.

“What?” Liam asks curiously, face falling.

“My room?”

Liam laughs, almost tinted with relief. “Yes. You’ve had one before, yeah?”

Zayn nods. “Not one that felt like this before.”

His smile falters. “What do you mean?”

“I like it here with you.” It’s simple enough. Zayn can’t explain what he feels when he’s with Liam, or how he feels when he isn’t with Liam. But it’s something, and it’s not a normal feeling.

“I like that you’re here.” Zayn feels Liam’s fingers wrap around his wrist again. It’s starting to become his comfort, feeling the pads of Liam’s fingers pressed against the veins there. When Liam’s gone and Louis infiltrates his mind, he presses his own fingers there, but it isn’t the same. “But you’re going to have to stop doing that thing with your mouth?”

Zayn doesn’t understand. He isn’t doing anything but looking at Liam.

“Like this.” Liam parts his lips, running his tongue along the bottom lip and pressing the tip against the edge of his mouth. He looks kind of ridiculous and extremely adorable at the same time. “Except you pull it off much better.”

“I didn’t realize I was even –“

“It makes me want to kiss you,” Liam blurts, interrupting him. The words hang in the air between them. Liam looks at Zayn expectantly but Zayn can’t breathe. He feels, for the first time in decades, like he needs to take a deep breath.

He’d be the biggest liar on the planet if he says he hasn’t imagined the way Liam’s lips feel. If they’re soft like they look, or chapped. How they would fit in between his or feel under the scrape of his teeth. He probably tastes like vegetables or eggs since that’s all he eats.

And now, Zayn thinks maybe Liam has wondered those things about him, too.

“I think than, like maybe you should?” He’s more conscious now, of the way his tongue runs against his lips as Liam nods and pulls him closer by the wrist, so their chests are nearly touching. Zayn likes being surrounded by the scent of Liam. It used to tickle his nose, but once he got past Niall’s overbearing scent, he found Liam’s. It is like coming home after being away for a while, or smelling a blanket you’ve brought with you when you do leave. Zayn wants to press his skin to Liam’s long enough that the scent will linger there forever.

Liam’s eyes trail along Zayn’s face before he runs his fingers along his jaw and to his hair, pushing them around the back of his head. Zayn tilts his head up, but barely, their lips already at the same height as each other. He can smell toothpaste, covering the scent of coffee. It’s a strange combination, one Zayn finds slightly arousing.

“C’mon then,” he breathes out. His fingers reach out to Liam’s hip, feebly attempting to pull him closer.

“It’s not every day you get to kiss the creepy hot guy from the café,” Liam jokes.

With a whine, Zayn closes the space between them on his own, not wanting to wait for Liam any longer. It feels like the string that is constantly yanking him towards Liam snaps, as soon as their lips press together. They’re surprisingly smooth, not chapped despite the cold air. He drags his lips slowly against Liam’s, wanting to feel every inch of them against his own.

His fingers curl into Liam’s shirt, closing the minimal space between their chests. Liam’s fingers dig into the hair at the back of his neck, and he sighs against Zayn’s lips. It’s a sweet sound and Zayn wants to hear more.

He runs his tongue against Liam’s lips and they part easily. Liam takes a step back, pulling Zayn with him until they cannot move any farther. It’s like the thud of Liam’s back against the wall triggers something inside of Zayn. He presses harder against the boy, deepening the kiss until a soft groan leaves Liam’s lips. Zayn pushes his fingers up his torso, dragging the bottom of Liam’s shirt with them. He’s so tuned into the thud of Liam’s heart against him, it’s as if it’s his own heart beating.

Liam’s hand runs underneath the back of Zayn’s shirt and he shudders from the warmth. Liam is pressing into him, whimpering shamelessly against his lips. Zayn presses his hips down against the boy, and Liam bites Zayn’s bottom lip. He just wanted to kiss the boy and now he can feel his cock hardening in his jeans.

“Liam,” Zayn breathes, pulling away, which takes a lot of effort on his part. Liam keeps a firm hand on the back of his neck, returning the press of their hips. Zayn bites his lip to repress a groan. He doesn’t want to take it too far but Liam is making it much too difficult.

“Why are you talking?” Liam says, smirking, clearly not bothered by the fast pace of it all. 

 A growl rumbles in Zayn’s chest before he presses their lips together again. He grabs Liam’s hips to hold them where he wants. Liam’s cock presses against his own and it’s too much. He moves their hips together and Liam lays his head against the wall, breathing heavily. He’s beautiful, wrecked against the wall from barely anything. Zayn is wrecked too.

He moves his lips along Liam’s jaw, the stubble of hair scratching against his tongue. Liam’s hand on the back of his neck urges him towards his neck, exposed by the way he tilts his head to the side.

Zayn presses his nose to the pathway of skin there and Liam whimpers again. It’s taking a lot of restraint for Zayn to stay quiet himself.

He rolls his tongue against Liam’s skin, feeling the way the pulse beats rapidly, faster than their hips are moving together. It’s a slow grind with much too clothes, but if Liam wants him like this, Zayn wants to savor every touch, every movement, every drag of Liam’s cock against his own. He's glad Liam changed into sweatpants when they had returned. 

Zayn presses his lips to the skin, his teeth expanding almost immediately. He wants to sink them into Liam’s flesh so Liam can be everything around, and inside of him too. He wants every part of himself to be Liam. The vein presses against his tongue, teasing him.

He grazes his teeth against his skin and Liam shudders, a moan slipping from his lips as he presses his hips against Zayn desperately. Pleasure shoots up Zayn’s spine and his teeth press down, sinking in effortlessly. It’s unlike any human blood he’s tasted before, sparking each taste bud as it moves across his tongue. He could come right then, from Liam’s blood alone, but Liam lets out a sharp gasp almost immediately and frightened of his actions, Zayn pushes away.

Liam is breathing heavy. He doesn’t look scared or anything, not even embarrassed. His cock tents his sweats and a circle of precome has soaked through them. There’s only a spot of red against Liam’s skin but the hole where Zayn’s teeth has punctured is closing up quickly from his saliva.

“I’m sorry,” Zayn gasps. He feels more frightened than Liam looks. He could have drained him, without so much of a thought if Liam hadn’t reacted. He doesn’t want to but he wants to at the same time. The taste of Liam’s blood is strong on his tongue and it buzzes through him. He feels almost alive, as if he could take that deep breath and it will fill his lungs and make his heart beat again.

“It’s okay. Why did you stop?” Liam pants. There’s a haze over his eyes and it turns something in Zayn’s stomach. But he can’t touch Liam, he can’t.

“I bit you,” Zayn gasps. He wants to put as much distance between them as he can. He takes a step back but Liam moves with him, not seeming to notice the urgency to get away.

“Barely,” Liam mutters, reaching out and grabbing Zayn’s waist. Zayn is confused by how un-phased he appears. Zayn bit him, drew blood, and Liam hardly seems to notice. “It felt really good, I don’t mind.” He moves his lips to hover over Zayn’s.

“I can’t –“ Zayn starts, pushing away from Liam. There’s hurt and confusion in the boy’s eyes. He turns away and walks out of the bedroom. Only a moment of seeing Liam upset because of him is a moment too much.

There’s nowhere for him to go, so he goes into the bathroom, automatically moving his body in front of the mirror he can’t see himself in.

Liam’s footsteps approach the door. There’s a long pause before he walks away and off to his bedroom. Zayn waits in the bathroom until his cock has softened and the taste of Liam’s blood is gone from his tongue. He waits until Liam has shut his bedroom door, trying not to listen to the choked sound he makes once inside.

Zayn wills himself to stay in the bedroom and not think about the disappointed look on Liam’s face, or the way Liam felt against him. But it’s hard when he’s so tuned into Liam’s every footstep, every time he moves on his bed or puts something down, easily heard with his enhanced senses. It’s even harder when the sky starts to darken and he hears the sound slick sound of Liam’s hand around his cock mixed in with soft gasps and restrained moans. Zayn ignores the way his own cock stiffens as he imagines Liam spread out on his bed, hand working himself desperately. He manages to fall asleep, despite the ache, and dreams of how good Liam probably looks when he comes.

 

Louis has had enough, and really, with his patience, he has done pretty well. Niall is a waste of time. He says he doesn’t get into clan business but his clan is suffering because of Niall’s human. Zayn’s scent is all over Liam, and it’s has taken a lot of restraint and a lot of Harry to keep him from approaching the boy. He wouldn’t hurt him to the point of death, but a scratch or two wouldn’t be so bad.

Louis would put his claws on Liam, shred him up until he only has a small patch of skin unmarked, if it weren’t for him being Niall’s. Its common sense, you don’t hurt someone of another clan unless you can deal with the repercussions. And Louis cannot. That’s how he had lost Stan.

He had stayed in the day before because Harry had insisted. Louis feels bad. The hurt in Harry’s eyes is obvious and it hurts him too, but Harry has to understand he needs Zayn to come home. He’s worried. What if he’s hurt? Not being fed? How does he feed? Surely Niall wouldn’t allow him to feed off of the human. It’s the worst when you’re hungry, like a slow torture.

“We will enjoy the day,” Louis promises, pulling a scarf around Harry’s neck. He doesn’t need it to protect him from the cold air, but he has always liked them. “I promise.”

Harry’s smile brightens his eyes. “Yeah?”

Louis pushes up on his tip toes and hovers his lips over Harry’s. “If not, you can punish me all you want tonight, yeah?”

Harry doesn’t respond, but his eyes widen and if he had normal blood flow, Louis knows his cheeks would flame up.

“C’mon, then,” he chuckles, linking their fingers together.

They don’t run to get to the marketplace like they have every other morning. Louis needs to make it up to Harry. He didn’t do anything wrong, even though the boy was willing to do everything in his power to make it up to Zayn.

           

_“I’ll just go,” Harry said. Tears didn’t just brim his eyes, they slid down his cheeks, choked up his throat. His fingers flexed continuously as if he were to punch something. But Harry wasn’t violent, never had been._

_"You can’t.” Louis could hear the break in his own voice. That thought hadn’t even been considered – and never would._

_"Zayn will come back,” Harry said, wiping the back of his hand across his cheek. He wouldn’t look at Louis and it was driving Louis mad._

_“Zayn will come back. We are family, Haz. You too. You can’t leave me too.” His voice betrays him, bringing out the emotion he had tried to hide. It had been obvious he was upset, but Harry didn’t know just how upset he was. None of this made sense. It all had happened so fast and now Zayn was gone and not speaking to him and Harry was going to leave too?_

_"Lou…” Harry said softer that time, reaching out for Louis. Louis swung his arm out, the pot of Alfredo flying from his grip. It smashed into the wall as Harry’s arm had fallen. Louis had watched Harry gasp out a sob that matched his own._

 

They walk slowly down the rocky path, fingers locked together. The house is a far distance away from everything, which Louis had liked the most when they first moved in. He could have his family all to his self, the best way to ensure their safety.

Harry is silent, but out of the corner of his eye, Louis can see he’s smiling. It’s enough for him too, settling the energy buzzing through him. He doesn’t like getting upset around Harry, but he rather be upset around him than anyone else. Because only Harry can comfort him by doing nothing but being near him.

And he wants to keep his promise, but that’s proving to be difficult. They haven’t even entered the market place yet and he can smell Zayn. Harry runs his thumb across the back of Louis’ hand and it’s the only thing keeping Louis from jetting off.

“The shop,” Harry tells Louis, taking the lead and guiding him, even closer to the scent. “The one Zayn loves so much.” They enter the marketplace. It’s clear Zayn isn’t there now, but he has been. Recently.

The human, Niall’s human, is at the cash register. He wants to rip his throat out frankly, but Louis Tomlinson is not a hypocrite. Number one rule, no killing humans. Rule number 1A, no killing humans belonging to an older vampire.

“I will be in the book shop.” Harry presses a kiss to his forehead and turns before Louis can look at his face. He doesn’t need to. It’s clear in the slump of Harry’s shoulders that he's disappointed. 

There’s not one good thing about Louis and Harry is nothing but good. He’s not sure what he did to deserve someone so great, who can put up with how insufferable he is.

“Hello, how are you?” The human greets as Louis steps in front of him. His kind smile is infuriating.

“Would you be able to help me with something?” Louis indicates a section in the back of the stand. The stands in the marketplaces are tented now, as the weather grows much colder. Once it starts snowing, they will be completely closed down. And then maybe he’ll never be able to find his Zayn.

Louis walks to the back. He can probably point to every place Zayn has touched, his scent is so strong. Liam waits patiently besides him.

He trails his finger over a colorful patterned elephant, pretending to be interested. “I’m looking for something to give to my brother.”

“Okay. We can probably find something.” There’s that sickening smile again.

“He likes to draw. He likes tigers…” Louis pauses for dramatic effect. It would be fun, actually, teasing this human. If the situation were different.  “His name is Zayn.”

The pace of Liam’s heart nearly doubles. This reaction is pleasing.

“We have a few art kits…or drawings of tig –“

Louis grabs the bottom of Liam’s shirt and pulls him close, so the human can see the fangs slide from underneath his top lip. His lips form into a silent gasp, cutting him off from whatever he was saying. It’s satisfying, making that stupid smile go away.  

“Short and sweet, I’m looking for my brother. I know you know where he is. You will either tell me where he is or you will get him back to me within the next twenty four hours.” If Zayn is being held up at Niall's nest, he won't be welcome anywhere near it. 

“I can’t make him do anything,” the human says back. It must be the familiarity with vampires that keep the boy’s voice from wavering. Humans he’s come into contact with before have nearly, and sometimes actually, peed themselves when they realized what he was. 

“You will find a way.”

“Niall –“

Louis presses him closer so Liam can hear him clearly. “He let his clan mess with mine. So frankly, human –“

“Your clan?” the human asks, cutting Louis off. There’s clear confusion on his face. “I didn’t know Zayn was a part of any clan.”

The change in Liam is so sudden that Louis lets him go, equally as confused.

“Well he is,” he snaps, trying to recover. “Mine.”

The human runs a hand through his hair, clearly distressed as he looks away from Louis. “Yeah…okay, mate. Whatever you say, please just leave me alone.”

Louis is lost for words. He wants to continue threatening the boy, to make sure he’s gotten that Louis is serious, but he also wants to leave him and his apparent internal crisis alone.

“Well, uh…” Louis starts awkwardly, itching the back of his neck. “Thank you for your cooperation…”

The human still doesn’t look at Louis so he takes a hesitant step away.

Harry is headed towards Louis, long legs taking him quickly across the path. His brows are furrowed, and there’s worry in his eyes that washes away with relief when he sees Louis is not with Liam.

“I thought you killed him,” Harry sighes, taking Louis’ arm and pulling him close. His eyes search over Louis, as if to make sure there’s no part of him hurt. Or, possibly, that there’s none of Liam’s blood on him.

“You wouldn’t have left me alone with him if you thought me capable, Hazza,” Louis says.

Harry ignores this, staring hard behind him, apparently satisfied with Louis' condition. “What happened?”

Louis shrugs. “I have no fucking clue, but we’re getting Zayn back, I think?”

Harry looks at him for answers, but really, he is just as confused.


	5. Chapter 5

Something is wrong. Zayn is angry. And he’s getting angrier and angrier every moment. He was watching an episode of Supernatural, a comedic one about television shows, when he suddenly he felt it. He had been angry at himself, for biting Liam the day before, but this was different. More predatory, and he just wanted to be with Liam, though Liam had barely spoke a word to him this morning, rushing out of the apartment for work before Zayn could even wish him a good morning.

He paces, no longer paying attention to the show. The string between them is tugging hard, urging Zayn to go to the market place to check up on him. It took forever for his cell phone to turn on. Once it was on, he realized they had never exchanged cell phone numbers. He chucked the cell phone against the wall, where it fell to the ground with a smashed screen.

Zayn searches in the silverware drawer, for the spare key that Liam had put in there for him the first week he had started staying there. Why the hell someone who lives alone needs seven of each utensil, plus every other possible utensil for a kitchen is beyond him.

He finds it shoved in the back of the drawer with the pile spoons and sighs. The urgency to get to Liam fades, leaving his body with a sigh. Zayn slumps to the floor, letting his head fall to his kneecaps. This human is driving him insane. Zayn really thinks he is losing his mind. Anyone who feels this crazy mix of emotions surely is crazy?

There’s still something wrong. It’s like a sour feeling in his stomach. Like his insides are turning to mush. It doesn’t make sense. He feels sad, angry and disappointed, but at the same time it’s not him feeling that way.

The first time Zayn and Louis had fought over Harry, Zayn had been the only one yelling. He had been angry and confused. What was he doing wrong? Why did Louis need someone else? He had promised it would be just the two of them after Stan died.

“ _I don’t know, Zayn,” Louis had said, his voice soft. “There is something in my gut telling me I need him, ya know? I know I sound completely mental, but when he was hurt…it was like I was hurt too.”_

_Louis did sound mental. Because Louis hadn’t even known Harry before he found him. He had no reason to even approach the boy lying in the alley. There had been plenty of injured humans in their path before. Avoid them, because the consequences could be more deadly than helpful._

_Louis had stood up at that point, closing the space between them. Zayn had wanted to stay far away from Louis, but there had been something on his face that made him want to listen, even though every word hurt him. “He knows that you don’t want him around and that upsets him. And it’s like… it’s like I can feel his sadness and I just want to rip your throat out to prevent it.”_

That’s when Zayn had shoved Louis away and refused to hear more. But maybe he had should have listened. That’s what it felt like now. Even though it’s completely absurd. It’s not like feeling bad for someone, but actually feeling Liam inside of him.

“Oh my god,” Zayn gasps against his knees. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites his jeans, willing the sadness out of him. Underneath it, there’s a feeling of happiness. It belongs to him. Maybe Liam is his Harry. Maybe now he understands how Louis felt all those years ago, though he really doesn’t understand it at all, what it all means or what he should do about it. He just wants Liam.

Zayn sits there for a while and considers it. He had felt horrible, like something was missing for days before he left. Around the same time Liam had moved into town. That feeling went away when he was with Liam. His anger and hurt towards Louis faded the longer they spent together. All that mattered was Liam and Zayn didn’t even learn his last name until last night. It didn’t make sense, but it felt right.

Zayn gets up and heads to the shower. He wants to be clean when he tells Liam how he feels. It could cheer him up, or frighten him. Hopefully not the second.

And maybe he’ll call Louis. He understands now, or at least, maybe Louis can explain it better to him. Or just to hear Louis’ voice and apologize.

Zayn stares into the mirror and smiles. He wishes he could see what he looked like when he does, if he has a dimple or if his eyes crinkle like Liam’s. Maybe he shows too much teeth and looks goofy, like Harry when he is too excited over something. Maybe he’ll ask Liam later.  There’s probably a way to do that without mentioning he’s never seen his own face, right?

The worry for Liam is still there, but he’s no longer worried about himself. He’s found his Liam, and maybe Liam is his forever.

               

Liam had brought home some clothes from the thrift shop a few weeks back. They were a gift from Mrs. Ramir supposedly. Zayn is pretty sure that Liam bought them himself, because all Zayn had was the clothes he came in and some of the clothes in the closet that hadn’t seen daylight in years.

Zayn likes Liam’s clothes better, though. They smell like him, underneath the scent of closet and dust. He puts on a white shirt and one of Liam’s red plaid shirts over it. It’s a bit big on him, so he keeps it unbuttoned and rolls up the sleeves. Liam is due home soon, and if he doesn’t show up on time Zayn is considering going out and finding him. There’s still something wrong, but maybe he just had a bad day or something…

Zayn is definitely losing his mind, but he wants to tell Liam. He isn’t completely sane himself, after all. What sane person lets a creepy stranger sleep in their house?

He feels good; better than he has in a while. There’s something building in his chest, but it makes him smile now.

It’s a few minutes after Liam gets off of work when he hears it. The dull thud of Liam’s heartbeat, coming from a few floors below. It feels like it’s beating against his own chest, though Zayn’s heart has never moved. There may not even be one in there. There’s no use for a heart when you’re dead.

Zayn makes his way to the living room when he hears Liam’s footsteps outside of the door. It’s a long moment before there’s the sound of the key and door knob turning. The thudding is louder, almost deafening. His stomach twists into a painful knot.

“Liam?” Zayn says when the door opens. Liam stands in the door way. His face is twisted into an expression that looks wrong on his normally kind face. It’s anger, darkening his features and making the hard lines on his face sharper. With his enhanced senses, he can see the streaks staining Liam’s reddened face. “What’s wrong?”

“Your brother came to the shop today,” he says. His fingers remain on the door knob and they tighten. Zayn takes a step forward but the boy flinches and he stops himself. “Louis?”

“Did he hurt you?” It comes out louder than he intended. Louis wouldn’t… there’s rules to follow, and Louis is strict about them. But that would explain what he felt earlier. Wouldn’t it?

“No. But he wants you to come home.”

Zayn just stares at him. He knows that. But there’s something Liam isn’t saying, something causing the slight tremble in his voice and the anger in his eyes. And Liam isn’t asking the logical questions. How Louis knew to talk to Liam if Zayn hasn’t spoken to him. Why Zayn would think Louis would hurt him. Zayn doesn’t need to feel Liam’s emotions anymore, he can see them all on his face.

“And I think you should leave and go back to your nest.”

 _Your nest._ Liam knows, Liam fucking knows.

“Liam,” he starts, and it comes out almost as a plea, begging him to understand the things he can’t explain. His brain racks for something else to say but he’s panicking. Liam closes his eyes and his lips tighten into a thin line. “I can – I can-”

“No, don’t,” Liam interrupts. Tears brim his eyelids. “You’re a vampire, Zayn. A vampire.”

He spits the words out like acid and Zayn flinches. What does he say? Every word out of Liam’s mouth is coated with hatred, and it’s all directed towards Zayn. There’s no excuse, no words he can say to defend himself. It’s who he is.

“I can’t leave,” he finally says.

“What is this?” Liam yells, taking a step forward. “Did Niall hire you to take care of me? Or is this some vampire clan revenge plan where you kill me to get to Niall?”

“What?” Zayn gasps. “I would never hurt you, Liam. Ever.” He enunciates the last word so Liam understands how much he means it. “I was nearly losing my mind earlier when I thought something was wrong.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me?” Liam says almost hysterically. He looks like a mad man as he grabs his own throat. “You bit me last night, Zayn. Or do you forget that? I should have realized what you were then but I was blind. Niall always told me I would get myself killed if I came across a vampire.”

Zayn holds in any comment he has then, because Liam is right. It had been too late when he had regained control of himself, already piercing through Liam’s skin. Telling Liam that Niall knows what he is, who he is, and has allowed him still will do nothing because Liam is correct.

Earlier, he had been ready to rip through anyone who was the cause of Liam’s hurt, his anger. But it is him causing that, in more ways than one.

Every one of Louis’ strict rules is about protecting humans from them, the predator. It’s in their nature, to drink and kill. Zayn is capable. He’s watched the light leave a person’s eyes as they’ve struggled with their last breath. Humans have begged him for their life and he quieted them. It was a lifetime ago, but it still happened.

“I’ll leave,” Zayn says. He wonders if the words sound as shattered as they feel, slicing through him like broken glass. He wants to grab them and shove them back into his mouth. It feels too wrong but how else can he keep Liam safe?

“Good,” Liam says coldly, stepping out of the way of the door.

His feet are bricks, too heavy to pick up. His teeth pierce through his lip, the normal teeth, keeping in the sob building in his throat when he takes the first step to the door way.

“And Zayn?” He doesn’t turn around, because than he’ll never leave. It’s taking too much to get him through the door already. “Please don’t come back.”

The thickness in Liam’s voice breaks through the rage and Zayn slams the door shut behind him so he can clasp his palm over his lips, and not have Liam hear when the sob leaves his lips.

The hole is back and it’s ripping through him, spreading like rapid fire across his chest. It feels so wrong, walking away from Liam when the string is tugging on him.

It’s different than when he left his family. That hurt, but it feels like something fundamental has been ripped from him. Every feeling of comfort he has found over the past few weeks draining quickly out of him.

The cold air bites at his skin, sending a shiver up his spine. There’s nowhere to go but away from Liam and somehow that makes the situation feel even worse.

He settles into the small park. It’s dark but he can see. It’s quiet but he can hear the way the wind moves against the blades of grass and moves the bare branches in the trees.

Zayn sits against the tree, underneath the carving, and pulls his knees to his chest. He focuses on the sounds around him, trying desperately to get rid of the image of Liam’s broken face, which is attaching itself onto the back of his eyelids. Maybe this vampire curse can be good for one thing.

It becomes apparent quickly that he is not alone. Zayn sinks further into the shadow of the trees. There are footsteps a few yards off, coming from the direction of the marketplace. With the way he feels, he wouldn’t be surprised if someone thought him dead, or drugged.

Hiding is pointless, because it’s Louis approaching the park. If he can smell Louis, Louis can smell him too.

 

 

It worked, it really worked. He can smell him, he’s somewhere around. It’s different, but definitely Zayn. Louis tries not to run, tries to keep his pace, but fails horribly. He’s waited long enough for Zayn to come back he can’t wait any longer when they’re this close.

The scent leads him to a park behind the marketplace. Zayn is hidden in the shadow of the small, horrible attempt at a forest. Zayn isn’t running away from him, which could be a good sign. But Louis isn’t taking any chances.

For once, Louis isn’t sure how to act towards Zayn. He’s never had to think about it before. Kiss him when he wanted, touch him when he wanted, joke around with him, or be serious. He always knew what was right, could tell by Zayn’s emotions. When he is grumpy, he likes to be left alone with his paintings. When he’s quiet, he likes to be cuddled and kissed. These are basic, engrained into Louis like breathing used to be.

“I know you’re there,” Louis says hesitantly. That sounds like normal him, maybe.

Zayn doesn’t respond, doesn’t even move. There’s no reaction at all. This breaks Louis’ hesitancy and he rushes towards Zayn.

“Zayn…” Louis mutters, kneeling before him. He tenses under Louis’ touch but there is no other acknowledgement of his presence.

He looks awful. The skin on his face lacks any color, graying, as if he hasn’t fed.  All of his limbs are intact though, and there doesn’t seem to be any physical sign of damage. Chunks of hair stick out at different parts of his head, indicating that he’s been tugging at it. Something he only does when he is frustrated.

He looks up at Louis. There’s no life in his eyes. What did they do to him? There’s no emotion at all. Not anger, not hurt. Definitely not rage, like the last time Louis had seen him.

“Louis?” It’s lower than a whisper.

“Yes, it’s me. Zayn, babe, what is it?”

“What’re you doing here?”

“I was walking around the marketplace when I smelled you,” he responds.

“Where’s Harry?”

“At home.”

Zayn’s eyes narrow at him. “You left him there? Alone?” He seems almost upset by it, which would be amusing if the situation were different.

“Come home with me.” Louis begs. The last was meant to be a question, so they could talk somewhere warmer, and possibly clean Zayn up. But the desperation in his voice is selfish and needy and he doesn’t care. This wasn’t how he had pictured it, at all. He thought maybe he tell Zayn how much he misses him, tell him how he is sorry and they will find a way to work it out if he comes home. It was going to be really dramatic and probably make it into the next Nicholas Spark film.

Zayn doesn’t respond. He rests his head on the back of the tree, looking past Louis. He grazes his fingers over Louis’ hand, which rests on his kneecap.

The silence moves around them, lying heavily on Louis’ shoulders, pushing itself onto him and into his throat. Having a heart that doesn’t beat is favorable, in these kinds of situations. A thudding heart would be noticeable in this kind of silence.

Zayn could say no and Louis wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Except for get on his knees and beg, which at this point, is a possibility. Louis would attach his arms to Zayn’s skinny legs and refuse to let go if he needed to. Nothing was under him, at this point.

Louis sits beside Zayn, so their sides are touching. He wants to say more, or at least pull Zayn up and drag him home, but he is afraid of ruining this, afraid that Zayn will just run away from him again.

He doesn’t break the contact of their fingers, instead, pushes his through the spaces between Zayn’s. His hands are smaller and bonier than Harry’s, but his skin is warm tonight in the cold air.

They sit there like that, silent and unmoving, for a while. Louis lets him be, doesn’t push him for an answer, because at least they are together again.

 

When Zayn killed his first human, he had rushed into the forest where they had been staying at the time, calling out for Louis. Louis had been there in moments, pulling Zayn to his chest and letting him sob there. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t scold him, or anything. Just let him cry.

And it had been comforting, having Louis there. And it is now. Louis stays quiet beside him, every now and then rubbing his thumb across the back of his hand. Guilt settles in the pit of his stomach. Louis is his family, and he hadn’t treated him as such.

If he had understood before, he wouldn’t have acted that way. He would have let Louis and Harry be, and gotten over it probably. Because he doesn’t want Louis to ever feel how he feels now, broken and torn apart. There’s an internal conflict inside of him that he can’t seem to turn off and he probably caused that for Louis, trying to make him choose between Harry and him. Zayn knows now, for sure, who Louis would have chosen.

“Did you talk to Liam?” Zayn’s voice breaks through the silent air, making Louis jump from the sudden noise.

“Yes,” He responds. “I’ve been searching for you since you left and your scent was all over him. I tried to talk to his clan leader but that tosser isn’t –“

“Clan leader?” Zayn chokes out.

Louis frowns at him. “Niall? Remember that vampire clan I told you about? That’s them… you didn’t know that?”

Zayn presses his face to Louis’ shoulder. Liam said vampire like it was acid, not his family. There was nothing but hatred on Liam, who is normally so kind and trusting. He even likes the evil characters on Supernatural, yelling at Zayn when he tried to judge them. “They’re misunderstood,” he says.

Louis places his other hand around Zayn’s neck and circles his fingers against the skin there. He’s silent again but Zayn doesn’t ask what’s on his mind. It’s a rare occasion for Louis to be quiet for so long.

Zayn pulls his head back up. “We can go home, Lou.”

Louis leans closer to him, pressing his lips to Zayn’s forehead. “Good.”

The words are soft, almost like a breath of relief. It’s a strange contrast from the Louis he has always known and the guilt in his stomach worsens.

Louis doesn’t let go of his hand as they stand up. Louis keeps Zayn close enough so their elbows knock into each other every few steps. It’s nice and it’s comforting enough to keep Zayn moving forward, and not back to where Liam’s scent is fading behind them.

“Is everything okay, Zayn?” Louis asks. “I didn’t hurt Liam. If they hurt you – “

“No,” Zayn cuts him off.

“I’m serious Zayn. If they did- “

Zayn places a hand over Louis’ mouth. “They didn’t, I promise.” It was him who did the hurting.

Louis takes Zayn’s hand from his mouth. “I was worried about you, Zayn.” They are less than half a mile from the house where they’ve stopped. Louis runs his thumb across Zayn’s jawline. “I’ll work on whatever it is, please just don’t do it again.”       

Zayn looks past him and nods.

A smile takes over his face and he pulls Zayn closer. Their lips are so close he can feel the air move against his own when Louis says, “Good.”

It’s normal, something he’s done a hundred thousand times before. He can’t help but to think of the contrast from Liam’s lips. Louis’ are chapped, and they don’t taste right. He kisses Louis more urgently, wanting to wash away the feel of Liam on his lips. It’s too painful to think about, how everything was different just the day before. Liam pushed away the uncomfortable feeling in his chest and now that’s gone. Being with Louis is comforting, but not enough to fill the hole inside of him.

Louis cups his face in response, his teeth tugging on Zayn’s bottom lip. He groans, gripping Louis’ hips and pulling him closer. It still feels good, being with Louis.

Their kiss turns aggressive, with too much teeth, clacking together and scraping against each other’s lips. He can’t think about Liam, he needs to focus on this with Louis. 

Louis guides him off of the path. This whole area had once been forests, before space was cleared for the marketplace and housing projects. Louis had liked the forests when they moved in, because they kept their house hidden, away from other people.

Zayn’s head scrapes against the bark of a tree but he groans again, as Louis’ hips press against his. “You bastard,” Louis snaps angrily, biting at his jaw line.  “You left me.” He sucks hard onto his skin, making Zayn gasp. It hurts, but Zayn wants to feel the pain. The pain feels better, or distracts him enough to forget.

Louis’ teeth pierce his skin and he moans, his voice floating through the still air of the night. He fights back against the press of Louis’ body, grinding his hips against the older vampire.

Zayn hears the shirt rip before it falls to the ground. The tree scrapes against his skin through the thin material of the white shirt, blending in with the way Louis’ nails feel scratching down his chest.

This is easy for him, knowing what to do here. He doesn’t have to think about what’s right or wrong, what’s safe.

There’s no hesitancy. Louis pushes a hand under the edge of his pants, grabbing his cock. Zayn’s head smacks into the tree. The pain in his neck from Louis’ teeth mixes with the pleasure from the fingers moving against his length.

“You just fucking left,” Louis growls when he pulls his lips away. He lets go of Zayn and undoes his own pants.

“I’m sorry,” Zayn gasps as Louis pushes him down. He follows behind, pushing Zayn so his back rests on the rocky ground. Louis covers his body with his own, his cock pressing against Zayn’s stomach. He bites at Zayn’s lips, just as aggressive as before.

“Take them off,” Louis orders, ignoring his apology. Zayn pushes his pants down as far as he can, which isn’t much. His knuckles trail against Louis’ skin and the older boy shutters above him.

Louis sits up, in between Zayn’s legs, and pulls them off the rest of the way. The cool air feels weird on him like this, but he doesn’t think about it too long because Louis is taking him into his hand.

“Don’t leave me again,” Louis says, his voice breaking slightly. He spits into his hand, letting go of Zayn’s cock to push his legs so they are nearly touching his chest. He presses a finger to Zayn’s hole and he moans, needing more. There's not enough distraction in the world, but this is coming close enough. 

It isn’t gentle, and it isn’t patient. But it’s what Zayn needs. Louis’s face twists into one of agony, and if Zayn could see himself he knows he would look the same. Louis’ doesn’t prepare him before pressing himself inside of Zayn. Pain and pleasure try to out win each other as Louis hips snap against Zayn’s skin.

He closes the space between their body and hovers his mouth over Zayn’s. Zayn moans against his lips, feeling the press of Louis’ body against his length. Louis’ teeth slide from his gums, and he leans down to Zayn’s jaw to bite, but not before he sees Louis’ red rimmed eyes.

Louis’ bites into Zayn’s flesh and pleasure wins, rocketing through his body. Louis’ movements become staggered and Zayn comes first, tugging harshly at Louis’ hair. Louis’ tongue runs over the wound as he snaps his hips hard, coming with a broken sob.

He collapses against Zayn and holds their bodies together, the anger draining from their bones. “Please don’t leave again,” Louis chokes out. It isn’t nearly the first time he’s said it that night it hits Zayn hard. He bites his lip to keep the pain from tumbling out.

Louis scoops Zayn up, pulling up his pants and buttoning them for him. He wipes the come off of his stomach with the plaid shirt and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s a contrast, but nice.

               

Zayn doesn’t see Harry when they enter the house, but knows he’s there, somewhere sleeping. Louis guides him to his old bedroom. The bed is still unmade like he left it, but there’s a lot of things on the ground he doesn’t remember throwing. Louis’ scent is strong in here, nearly covering his own. 

Louis stays with him, curling his body around Zayn and pressing his nose to Zayn's back. Zayn waits until he’s asleep to take his fingers and press them to the inside of his wrist. 


	6. Chapter 6

_Zayn presses his tongue against the skin at Liam’s throat, savoring the salty taste. His vein jumps from the contact, taunting him._

_"No,” Liam gasps. There’s not enough strength in his arms to overpower Zayn. “Stop, Zayn, please,” he begs. The strain in Liam’s body to push him aside only makes the vein pop out more._

_Zayn sinks his teeth into Liam’s skin, letting the blood rush into his system. It fills his system, all of his senses focused on the boy under him. He drinks, until he can’t tell the difference between himself and the boy._

_It’s a sweet mix of pleasure and pain, the two mixing together and becoming one. Zayn groans because even that’s not enough._

_Liam’s attempts at escape weaken, until he hangs limply in Zayn’s arms, ripping themselves into two pieces again._

These dreams play over and over throughout the night, allowing him less than a few hours of sleep at a time. He feels as if he is going to burst. There’s no physiological reaction as a vampire, and for the first time he wishes he could experience what a human feels. There’s no fast paced heart, or blood rush to the brain. He’s just tense all over.

Each time he wakes, it takes him awhile to register where he is. In his old bed, with Louis’ body only a few inches away. Zayn curls beside him each time, willing himself to fall into a dreamless sleep. But it never happens.

After a few times, Zayn gives up. Despite feeling drained, he lies their wide awake, waiting for the sun to rise.

On a stand in front of the window sill, there’s an assortment of brand new paints and brushes, still in their packaging. Zayn wonders if Louis bought them in hope of his return. It makes Zayn feel worse than before.

“Zayn,” Louis grumbles, rolling to his side.

 It has been years, since he has woken up with Louis in his bed. It should be enough now to comfort him. Isn’t that why he had been so upset? Because of Louis pushing him aside?

But it’s not enough and it’s because of Liam. There’s no point in trying to blame anything else. Liam moved into town, changed his whole life around, in barely over a month, and then kicked him aside. Just like Louis, who had done the same thing when Harry came into their home.

            And maybe Liam isn’t his Harry, because Zayn is almost positive, though he isn’t the biggest fan of Harry, that the lad wouldn’t kick Louis aside, for anyone. Maybe he is meant to be alone, watching others come together around him.

Those thoughts about who Liam was to him were delusions. Just Zayn trying to convince himself that the way he felt for a stranger, whom he had only known for a month, was normal. That the static in his bones causing his unease is normal.

Louis reaches out and brushes his fingers against Zayn’s chest. “You’re still here.” He smiles softly and Zayn returns it. It’s nice, it really is.

Louis rolls over and presses his lips softly to his. It’s too tender of a kiss, coming from Louis. It feels wrong, but Zayn parts his lips and lets it be, curling his hand around the back of Louis’ neck, who responds with a noise of content.

“Harry is awake,” Zayn mumbles against his lips. Harry’s heavy footsteps pad along the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

“Mhmm,” Louis mutters, adding pressure against Zayn’s lips. Guilt fills him and it’s strange.

He pulls himself away and presses a kiss to Louis’ forehead to rid the pout starting to form on his lips. “Let’s go surprise him.”

Never before, had Zayn felt guilty for being with Louis. But it’s there now, tugging at him.

 

Harry stands up abruptly from the table when Zayn and Louis enter the kitchen. He looks at the chair awkwardly, as if regretting the sudden movement.

“Harry,” Zayn greets first.

Harry has always been an open book, though one with a very confusing context. Emotions pass over his face interchangeably. Confused, sad, excited, nervous.

 “I’m glad to see you,” he tries. There’s no confidence in his words, but Zayn knows he means it. How kind and fragile Harry is used to just make Zayn angrier. Because Harry just let him be mad, didn’t even try to ever fight him on it. Now it just makes the guilt twist in his stomach.

“I’m glad to see you too, Harry.” It’s not the complete truth, but it doesn’t feel like a lie.

Harry smiles and looks to Louis. He doesn’t sit back down though his fingers grip the back of the chair. With the strength of a vampire, he could break it easily.  

“Did you – uh, get back in last night?”

Zayn nods, moving towards the cupboard that holds the dishes. He can feel Louis’ eyes on him the whole time, as if he is going to trick them and actually run out of the door.

It feels strange, making himself at home – even though that’s what where he is. Home. No… that’s wrong. It doesn’t feel right calling this place home anymore.

“Yes, sorry we didn’t wake you,’ Louis continues. Zayn looks at Harry sideways.

He’s looking at Louis, who Zayn can’t see, but its apparent Louis is mouthing something to him. Harry’s face falls and he opens his mouth to protest, jaw snapping closed before he can.

Zayn turns then, to see what Louis is mouthing. But Harry grabs his bowl of cereal and leaves the kitchen. Louis turns to him, a smile on his face like nothing happened.

           

He is glad that Louis told him to leave. The tears burning the back of his eyelids are embarrassing.

_“Louis isn’t treating you anything different. He is just scared Zayn will leave again.”_

The words, running over and over in his mind do nothing to soothe the ache in his chest from the fear he has, that Louis will make him leave so Zayn will stay. It will never happen, never. He hopes.

Harry is unsure what to do, when Zayn follows him and sits beside him on the couch. They aren’t touching or anything, but if Harry is on the couch, Zayn is usually sitting on the chair or floor, the farthest spot away from Harry. It is strange, just like Zayn trying to be cordial with him in the kitchen. Before, Zayn would have ignored him and went on with whatever he was doing.

Harry had known they were back, when he woke in the morning and felt the cold sheets beside him, and smelled the new, yet familiar scent in the house. He hadn’t heard them come in, having drowned himself in the last of the vodka he had found in the basement. It had been a good day when he discovered vampires could still feel the numbing effects of alcohol.

“What are you watching?” Zayn’s voice is strained and hesitant. His fingers flex across his thighs, playing with the cotton material covering his skin. Even though Harry’s eyes are on the television, he’s focused on every one of Zayn’s uncomfortable movements.

It is a commercial, so he shrugs. “Oh, ah…no clue.”

 “Oh, cool,” Zayn responds.

Harry wants to laugh, honestly. The silence hangs in the air between them. Zayn looks at him a handful of times, even opening his mouth as to speak. Harry is more than content with the fact that he doesn’t. He just wants everything back to normal, which means Zayn avoiding and ignoring him.

There’s a falter in Louis’ step when he enters the room and finds the two of them sitting on the couch together. He looks around, before sitting into the chair. If Zayn’s place is far away, Louis’ is as close as can be.

The uneasiness fades as he throws his head back dramatically and groans as the commericals end. “Skins? Again, Haz?”

 He doesn’t bother to say he didn’t know. It is an old episode, from his favorite generation; the second. The same episode could play all day and he would be content with it.

“Luke Pasqualino is cool,” Zayn jumps in. Harry turns to look at him then, and Zayn just gives him a small, hesitant smile.

Maybe something happened to Zayn while he was gone, fundamentally changing him. For the better, or worse? Harry isn’t sure.

 

Zayn is trying. But it’s hard when every time he speaks to Harry, the curly headed boy gives him a look of confusion and pity.

He just wants the miserable look off of Harry’s face. It’s only there because of him. Before he didn’t care, but now he can’t stop. Before, Zayn might have even gone out of his way to put that frown there, hoping it would drive Harry away.

It distracts him from Liam, which is another problem that is his fault, one that he cannot fix.

But he can only make things right if he can escape Louis.  He steps more than a few feet away from Louis and Louis is moving to his side again. Even in the bathroom, Louis is in the corridor outside, or in his bedroom. Louis speaks to Harry those times, in hushed voices, but Zayn hears them.

_“I don’t think he is going anywhere, Lou,” Harry says urgently. Zayn knows he shouldn’t be listening, but the hurt in Harry’s voice keeps him there. “He’s changed, haven’t you noticed? If he was leaving, he wouldn’t be trying to, I don’t know, trying to talk to me? Being cordial? Possibly making amends?”_

_There’s silence before Louis speaks again, voice muffled as if he is pressing his face into Harry’s chest. “But what if he does, Haz?”_

They haven’t talked about it since the first night, but Zayn remembers the plea in Louis’ voice when asking him not to leave again. Maybe now he wants to stay, for more reasons than just one.

 

It’s not until Louis is asleep, snoring softly, his fingers relaxing from their grip on his shirt, that he gets his chance.

Harry is sitting outside. Zayn sees him as he walks past the windows in the corridor, with his back to the house. The moon light shines on his curls, and down the plane of his white shirt. His chin is propped on his knees.

Harry doesn’t move when Zayn steps outside. He looks straight ahead, at the trees. There’s nothing there, in plain sight nor enhanced vision. Just trees, and trees. Past their home is the woods, yet to be cut down to accommodate more housing, or shops, or highways.

Zayn almost doesn’t want to disturb him. Closing the space between them, he can see the slight movement of Harry’s chest, falling up and down, as if breathing.

“I like to pretend,” Harry says, finally acknowledging Zayn’s presence. He is quiet, but his voice echoes in the silent air. “That I’m a human.” There’s a long pause. “I still remember, you know.”

Zayn sits beside him, staring at his face, twisted into thought. It feels wrong to say anything to disturb Harry, or interrupt the silence between his words.

“And I don’t want to forget. So I pretend.” Harry breathes in, pauses, and then lets the air out. “I don’t know why. I didn’t know happiness until I met Louis. Though, if you would have asked me when I was human I would have told you I couldn’t be any happier.”

Zayn isn’t so sure. He doesn’t know much about Harry’s human life, but he knows how he died. Beaten and left for dead by his friends. And it hadn’t been an isolated incident. Harry used to tell Louis about it like it didn’t matter, or wasn’t a big deal.

“And I ruined that for you.” Guilt settles heavy in his chest. Zayn never put his fists to Harry, but still hadn’t treated him any better.

Harry’s life had been awful, and he remembers it. When he escaped that bad life, Zayn just continued the torture. He doesn’t remember his old life, whether it was good or bad. How he died, if it was by the hands of a close one or accidental. But Harry is living his forever being tortured by people he calls friends.

Zayn’s happiness was given and taken away before he could even blink. Remembering human life or not, being with Liam was happiness like he hadn’t experienced . Even before Harry, life with Louis didn’t compare. He lost it, and it hurt more than anything he’s felt before, emotionally and physically. And he had spent the last thirty years trying to take away Harry’s.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Harry says simply.

Zayn snorts, wishing Harry would do something cruel that would make him feel a bit better about himself. “I didn’t really make it easy on you.”

Harry shrugs. “Well, I don’t blame you. I did try to take your Louis away from you.”

“But he’s your Louis.”

Harry looks at him now, emotions playing across his face. The words lay heavy in the air around him and it feels like an apology, though it isn’t one. It’s an understanding.

Harry smiles softly. It is the truth. Louis was always Harry’s, even before Harry was a thing that existed.

“I’m sorry for that,” he says.

“Don’t be,” Zayn says, letting out a frustrated noise. This boy is impossible. And it makes him feel worse. Harry never tried to get in between them, dealing with Louis and Zayn continuing their relationship while Louis and he started their own, dealing with Zayn’s moods and anger. And he blamed himself all for it, even though it wasn’t his fault.

 “Will you stop being nice to me? I’ve been shit to you and I’m trying to apologize?”

 Harry laughs and Zayn finds he wants to laugh with the boy, who he’s never shared even a casual conversation with. “Okay, okay. But I am sorry.”

Zayn shoots him a look, rolling his eyes.

“Do we hug now?” Harry asks, lips curling into a smirk. “Or is that too soon?”

“The second.” But Zayn smiles. He wants to work on it with Harry, and maybe be friends. But it is still strange right now.

Harry turns his body towards Zayn and pulls out a cigarette pack from his pants pocket. Thirty years together and Zayn didn’t even know he smoked.

Harry offers him one and Zayn takes with a smile. He hasn’t had the urge to smoke since before Liam came around. Thoughts of the brown eyed boy get shoved to the back of his brain as he inhales softly, closing his eyes and feeling his head swarm.

“What happened while you were gone?” There’s a genuine curiosity on his face.

Zayn shrugs. He watched four seasons of Supernatural, ate a lot of eggs? Found a new appreciation for spoons?

“Well, I’m sorry for whatever it is.” There’s understanding in Harry’s eyes and Zayn feels violated. Liam feels like something private.  “But, I’m glad you’re back. Really, I am. Louis was so terrified…”

“Not really making me feel better, mate,” Zayn jokes.

Harry smirks around the bud of his cigarette, and inhales. “Maybe that hug will do the trick?”

Zayn only laughs and it settles nicely around them. The silence that follows isn’t awkward like it would be, before Zayn left. They stay like that for a while, until buds litter the ground around them and Louis starts to stir in Zayn’s bedroom. Harry gives him a nod before Zayn runs off, to lie beside Louis before he notices his absence.

 

Zayn has had enough. It has been a week and Louis has still not given him space, despite Harry’s attempts to spend time with him, alone. And despite their conversation, Harry is grumpy towards Zayn, forcing a smile on his face whenever Zayn greets him, or tries to make small talk.

Harry doesn’t deserve the company of cold sheets, while Zayn sleeps with a warm body pressed against him.

Louis plops down beside Zayn. There’s a book in Zayn’s lap but none of the words are sticking. There’s an itch in his bones that he is unable to scratch, an energy buzzing through him. Despite his best efforts, Liam is in his every thought, his face shows up in every dream. There’s a dull sense of sadness inside of him, and he wonders if that is Liam, or just a mix of his own emotions.

Louis scratches his fingers through the hair on the back of Zayn’s neck. His eyes are closed and his lips are pressed into a frown.

Zayn places the book next to the bed and rolls to face Louis. “D’ you think tomorrow you and Harry can go do something in town? He’s been grumpy lately and I think it’s because of me.”

Louis’ eyes fly open. “What? No, he’s fine,” he says quickly, but he knows the truth. Zayn has seen the sadness in Louis’ eyes before Harry pads off to bed after failed attempts to get Louis to go with him.

“He’s not Lou,” Zayn says. “You don’t want him to leave, do you?”

Zayn knows it’s cruel to say, and he feels bad when Louis bites his lip and turns his face away, eyes already reddening with tears.

“I don’t think he will,” he adds, scooting closer to the older vampire. “You know he’d rather let himself be upset than upset you. Does he deserve that?”

“No,” Louis whispers, his voice trembling slightly. “Why do I feel like no matter what I do you guys will just end up leaving me?”

Zayn takes Louis’ hand into his own. “You haven’t done anything. It’s been me, and I’m trying to make amends. So please spend time with Harry, go back to normal.”

Louis turns, his eyes glistening with tears. He has always been better at biting them back, keeping them from spilling over. “You promise you will be here?” Zayn nods. “I’ve been total shit to Harry, haven’t I?”

Zayn nods again. “You’re lucky Harry is Harry.”

Louis gives him a weak smile. “I am very lucky. For the both of you. I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

 

Brightness shines off Harry, his lips stretching across his face as his eyes glisten. Louis has always liked when how big Harry’s smile is, and the dimple that appears when he does. Louis likes everything about Harry really.

“Yeah? Just the two of us?” There’s excitement in Harry’s voice, still rough from sleep. Louis had tip toed into the room so Harry could wake up beside him. He’s missed Harry, waking up to his arms around him, feeling his skin against his own.

Louis would never hurt Harry purposefully, would rather hurt himself than Harry. But Zayn had been right. He is hurting Harry and it’s not fair.

There’s a fear Zayn won’t keep his promise. That when they return from their outing Zayn will be gone again.

“Yes, just the two of us,” Louis says, leaning over and pressing his lips against Harry’s, whose are still stretched into a smile. Harry places a hand to the back of Louis’ head and hums softly.

Louis pulls away. “Let’s get going before Zayn changes his mind and decides he wants to come.”

Harry is practically gleaming the whole time, as they get dressed and eat breakfast. He even pulls Zayn into a tight hug before leaving which is highly amusing. Zayn looks like he’s being tortured, but pats Harry’s shoulder awkwardly.

“It’s not a goodbye, so don’t hug me,” Zayn says to Louis as he approaches him, arms starting to spread. He lets his arms fall to his side and nods. If he wants to leave he would have every chance to.

Harry snakes his fingers through Louis' and tugs his arm towards the door. He keeps his eyes on Zayn, who nods before Harry drags him out. It’s all very dramatic and stupid and Louis just wants to put both of his boys in his pocket and keep them with him at all times.

“He won’t leave,” Harry mutters against his ear, pulling him close.  There’s a light covering of snow on the ground. Louis hadn’t even realized winter had come.

“And you?” Louis looks at him.

Harry smiles. “I couldn’t if I tried,” he hums.

 Louis pushes away from Harry because he’s stupid and he’s in love with the stupid boy.

Harry wraps his arms around him from behind, keeping him from moving farther away and presses his chin in the crook of Louis’ neck. It’s awkward to walk this way, but he wraps his fingers around Harry’s arms anyway.

“D’you think that maybe Zayn is looking for what you and I have?” Harry wonders as they step out onto the road. There’s snow covering it, since their house is the only one far out into the woods.

“What makes you think you and I have anything?” Louis chides, not sure where Harry is going with this.

            Harry tenses around him. Louis turns, so his chest is pressed against Harry’s. He lifts up on his tip toes and kisses him. It shows how upset Harry has been, that he can’t take any of Louis’ jokes. “Being in love, you mean.”

It’s not something they’ve fully discussed. It’s always been a mutual understanding; the way they’ve felt about each other. Harry kisses him again, tears forming in his eyes. Louis rolls his.

“No getting mushy on me, Styles. What were you saying?”

Harry looks away for a long moment, biting his lip as he smiles. “It’s like we were meant for each other, y’know?” He squeezes his arms tighter around Louis. “Remember how you told me you felt off before you found me? And then when you did you felt like you had to change me? You had just met me but you felt like I needed to be with you forever?”

Louis had said that. He hadn’t accidentally found Harry. It felt like something was dragging him there, and when he got there he hadn’t even considered letting him die. Losing Harry had never been an option.

“Maybe Zayn is looking for his person to save,” Harry continues. “Maybe that’s why he left.”

It’s possible. The first clan he had been with had told him about relationships among vampires. They were always a stronger bond and when those bonds were broken they hurt like nothing else.

“I didn’t leave Zayn, though.”

Harry presses his fingers into his side. “You would have though. If he would have found his person first and you had to watch it.”

Louis knows Harry isn’t being cruel, but it feels that way. He looks away, but Harry’s fingers are on his jaw, turning his face back. Louis hides his face into Harry’s palm because he’s right, even though Louis doesn’t want to admit to it.

“Are you saying he has to leave me?”

“No,” Harry responds. “But he might.”

Louis breathes in the scent of Harry’s skin, to keep himself from feeling the ball that is forming in his chest. “I don’t want him to. Does that make me selfish.”

“It does,” Harry hums, not unkindly. “But it’s okay.”

 

Zayn sits in front of the mural that is his walls, the brush running delicately over the years of paintings. Different shades of browns and reds mix together. A comfort settles over him as he focuses on the movements of his hands, clearing his mind of any thoughts. He paints for hours, until the sun starts to set, taking the light from his room. He continues, until the door opens and the sound of heavy footsteps and gasps and moans fill the hallway. And he doesn’t stop until his eyes are too heavy to continue, his vision blurring as he looks at the array of brown eyes and flushed cheeks covering the walls of his room.


	7. Chapter 7

_Liam pulls Zayn closer, so their chests press together and Zayn becomes everything surrounding him. The scent, the feel, it’s all him. Teeth scrape his neck and he moans, angling his neck so Zayn can press his teeth again. It doesn’t scare him, he wants it. Wants to feel Zayn’s bite as their hips move against each other._

_“No,” Zayn mutters against his skin. His fingers pull Liam closer, despite the verbal protest._

_“It’s okay,” Liam soothes. “Please.” It comes out breathy and desperate. It’s all Zayn needs though as he gasps out a moan before sinking his teeth in easily._

_It’s unusual. His body should want to fight off the intrusion but it welcomes it, aching for more. He gasps, pleasure flowing through every vein in his body. Even his fingers tingle as they press into Zayn’s skin._

It’s always then that dream changes focus and Liam remembers what Zayn is and shoves him off, yelling at him to leave. Zayn goes, and every time Liam is running after him, begging him to come back. But Zayn gets smaller and smaller, unable to hear him, before he disappears completely.

And Liam always wakes in a cold sweat, heart banging against his skull.

 

“Hello Liam,” Niall drones on the other side of the phone. It’s pressed into Liam’s ear so hard that it bites at his skin. Holding it that tightly is the only way Liam can get his fingers to stop shaking.

“Where are you?” he breathes into the phone. It’s the middle of the night, but Niall is a night walker, sleeping throughout most of the day. It’s nothing to do with him being a vampire, that’s just Niall.

“I’m doing quite well, thank you for asking,” Niall continues, humor in his voice. When Liam doesn’t respond, he continues. “I’m on vacation, remember? I asked Andy to tell you.”

He had forgotten. Andy had sent the message the day he told… the vampire to leave.

“What is it Liam?” The humor has left Niall’s voice when Liam doesn’t respond. It’s authoritative, demanding an answer. It is impressive, the way Niall can switch from hysterical laughter to angry or serious in a matter of milliseconds.

“I, uh, nothing… when are you coming back?”

He couldn’t remember now, why he had called Niall. In search of comfort after he had awoken from another dream? For the seventh night in a row? Niall and he weren’t particularly close but Liam didn’t have anyone else. He woke and curled his fingers around his cell phone without even thinking.

“I can come back now, if you need me to?” Niall suggests. Liam can hear movement on the other side of the phone, as if Niall is packing.

“No,” he says quickly. There’s nothing Niall could do for him anyway. Niall can’t protect him from the bully that is his mind.

“Where’s Zayn? Go cuddle up with that beautiful sod ‘til I get there.”

Liam had been tempted all week, to call Niall and demand answers. Every time he would put the phone down, afraid of what truths he might not want to know. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Niall doesn’t even know Zayn is gone. There is no one around watching Liam, keeping him protected.

“Liam? S’everything alright?”

“Did you know?” Liam starts quietly. “What he is?”

The name weighs heavily on his tongue but he can’t get it out.

There’s a pause.

“Yeah, Li..” The simple way that he responds infuriates Liam. He wants to throw the phone, but his fingers dig into the plastic. “What happened? Did he hurt you or something?”

“No,” Liam snaps. Not in the way Niall probably means. He doesn’t want to tell Niall what’s hurting him the most, because it doesn’t make sense. Liam had made Zayn leave. He didn’t leave on his own accord.

“I’ll be there by the time you get out of work, alright? I think we need to talk.” Niall sighs heavily into the receiver.

“Alright.”

Liam hangs up and rolls over; wrapping his arms around himself and waiting out the rest of the night.

 

Mrs. Ramir knows there is something wrong. She looks at Liam with this concerned expression every chance she gets. There are a few questions asked, but Liam made it clear he didn’t want to talk about it. She asked about Zayn and Liam only shrugged. Zayn hadn’t been around that long and yet somehow he still seemed to put himself in every part of Liam’s life.

The marketplace is nearly empty, in comparison to the other days. Snow covers the ground, and half of the stands. They are open for another week but Mrs. Ramir runs the shop out of her home during the winter, and had offered a position for Liam. He accepted, hoping a new scenery would be the distraction he needed.

With such a small crowd, Liam notices Zayn’s brother as soon as he steps into the marketplace. Or vampire brother, if that’s a term. He doesn’t look in Liam’s direction, his eyes tilted up and planted on the curly headed boy beside him. The other vampire, he assumes that’s what he is, has a smile stretched across his face that looks like it hurts.

His eyes search past the couple, looking for those familiar dark eyes. He’s not around, anywhere. It’s not a relief, at all.

What if Zayn didn’t go back to his clan? There was a reason Zayn wanted to stay with Liam. There was something wrong at home. What if he is somewhere in the forest, sleeping in the snow? What if they were actually abusive? And Liam sent him back there.

The curly headed boy looks at him, his laughter fading. But there’s still a smile there, and it’s friendly. Liam looks away, not sure what to make of it. Surely if Zayn didn’t go back to them, the other vampire would be ripping his throat out as promised?

Liam turns away from the register, giving it to Mrs. Ramir so he can distract himself in the back, reorganizing. His stomach clenches and he is going to be sick.

Zayn had first come to his apartment bleeding, saying that he had fought with his brother. Liam had been so angry when Zayn first told him, wanted to hurt Louis to let him know what it felt like. But when Louis came to him and demanded Zayn back he just let him go, quietly, without even fighting him on it.

A hand touches his shoulder and Liam jumps.

“Sorry mate.” It’s the curly headed boy, who holds his hands up and takes a step back. The other boy is nowhere that Liam can see.

“What do you want?” Liam snaps. He won’t deny the way his heart beat picks up in fear.

“To thank you,” the boy starts. “We were worried about Zayn.”

“He was fine,” Liam responds, the defense in his tone surprising him and clearly the vampire too, whose eyes widen with amusement. There’s nothing funny about the situation but Liam is more than afraid so he bites his tongue.

“I wish he still was.” The vampire’s smile fades as he says this. “He changed when you came around.”

Liam doesn’t know what he means by this and he isn’t sure if he can handle knowing. “Well I don’t think he was too keen on going home to be honest with you. And I shouldn’t have sent him back.”

He waits for the vampire to get angry with him, but he doesn’t. There’s no defense in the boy’s stance like there should be.

“He's safe, but you're right. You shouldn’t have.” The vampire nods his head without explaining. It’s not what Liam expected at all. “It is nice meeting you, Liam.”

 

Liam grew up a few towns over, in a small townhouse with his mom and dad. They had a dog, and once had a bird. His father worked at a local insurance company and his mom a teacher. There was nothing too unordinary about their home life. He would come home from school, soon followed by his mother. She would cook until his father was done with work and they would have dinner. Liam didn’t have a lot of friends; he enjoyed spending time with his family more. There were a few people in the neighborhood he hung out with sometimes, but he liked to stay to himself. Watching television, reading old comic books, video games and what not.

Until the day he came home to a voice message on his telephone from the local police department.

His father had had the day off so he drove his mother to work. They had been hit by a Ford truck in a busy intersection and were dead before the paramedics had gotten there.

Liam was eighteen so he had been sent back to his empty house. It was the next day that Niall showed up, with a familiar face and a thick accent, telling him that Liam needed to come with him.

Of course, Liam didn’t go at first. He didn’t know Niall, and that was his home. Niall gave him little explanation at first, except that he was a friend of Liam’s father. It was hard to believe, since Niall looked to be about nineteen and claimed to have known his father for years. It wasn’t until Niall pulled out a letter addressed to him from his father that Liam went with him.

After that, Niall explained to Liam what he was, with a show of fangs and everything. Liam won’t admit that he spent the night crying, even though he’s sure, with what he knows now about vampires, that the clan had heard him.

Niall had put a strict no feeding off of Liam rule into place. He had told Liam he was his guardian, even though Liam had reminded him that he was too old for a guardian. There was nothing he needed to be protected from except for other vampires, but apparently not since Niall let Zayn in with such ease.

The rule though, didn’t change the fear Liam has when it comes to the clan. They are nice and funny sometimes, but he’s watched them fight, fangs out, throwing and ripping into each other like animals. He’s watched their faces twist into pleasure when blood touched their tongue. It is sick, twisted and wrong.

Liam insisted on his own place and Niall agreed. It all happened in about a week, and the fast pace change hadn’t stopped. Zayn came into his life nearly a day later and everything felt different. The pain he felt about his parents’ death was still there, but distant and unreachable when Zayn was around.

And now it’s back, with full force. He feels guilty almost, for not letting the pain take over him for the last month. His parents haven’t been gone long, but it feels like a life time.

And Zayn is one of them, one of the things that keep Liam up at night. And his feelings are two jumbled and overwhelming to deal with over it, so it’s better if Zayn is just away.

 

Niall is lounging on Liam’s couch when he comes in from work. His cheeks are tight from the cold, and his fingers hurt slightly. He hates the winter and it’s even colder here. Another thing he hates about the change the vampires brought upon him.

“You’re all together?” Niall asks, standing up and approaching him. Liam strips off his winter wear and lets it fall on the ground by the door, wet from the light snowfall.

“Yes,” Liam responds thickly.

“Well then tell me, Liam, why did you kick out your guest?” Niall asks. “His scent is faded. He hasn’t been here for at least a week.”

“You don’t have to show off your weird vampire senses. I was going to tell you that,” Liam snaps.

Niall grins and Liam wants to kick him in the shin or something, if it wouldn’t do more damage to him.

“Li – I only left because I thought Zayn was going to be here to protect you. Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m mad because you knew Zayn is a vampire and didn’t bother to tell me. NOT that you left me,” Liam retorts. He doesn’t need Niall. He would have dealt with his parents’ death on his own if he had had the chance. “And how do you know he would protect me? He’s a vampire, Niall. You told me you are here to protect me from them!” He throws his hands out wildly.

Niall is thoughtful for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip before he speaks again. Liam stares at him the whole time, feeling his face getting warmer and warmer. “How long do you think I’ve known your family Liam?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Niall ignores him. “I’ve known the Paynes for five generations now. Your great great grand-father, Leonard, was one of my best mates.”

“Wonderful,” Liam shoots sarcastically. He turns away. Talking to Niall is a waste of the little energy he has last.

“It was I that turned him.”

Liam stops. “You turned my grandfather?”

“Great, great grand-father,” he corrects.

He ignores him. “Why?”

Niall shrugs. “I liked him, a lot. He liked to run, and he had these arms.” Niall mimes very large arms.  “I thought he would be amazing member of the clan and I had been right. And before you get all moody, he asked me to change him.”

“Why would anyone want this?” Liam asks. He’s yet to see anything desirable about being immortal. Why would you want to be the only thing that is forever?

“There were other vampires in our territory. These guys were vicious, not caring who they killed. And I have always had a strict no children, no women rule. Only the sick or the dying could be touched. Back then, everyone was sick and dying and vampire blood dulled pain, healed some injuries, most diseases. But not all of them.”

Liam feels sick to his stomach. He curls up on the couch and Niall takes his place on the other side, continuing.

“Your, I guess… it would be your great, great, great, great – I think that’s too many greats – maybe just three – uncle was a victim of that clan. He was only two when they got him, and Leonard had another son, James, and a daughter on the way. He wanted to protect them.”

“What does this have to do with Zayn?” Liam interjects.

“Back story, be patient,” Niall snaps, using the authoritative tone on him. Liam presses his lips against the jean material of his pants of his knee and keeps quiet.

“We struggled with that clan for a long time, and for a while our attempts seemed futile. We were no closer to removing the clan from our territory than we were of finding the name of the vampire who had killed Leonard’s son. Leonard took his family to another town, with a vampire population of zero, and returned to us when James was considered an adult. Which at the time, was much younger than it is now.

He fell in love with a girl, and at first I think it might have been fatherly love at first. She was young when he first met her, only a few more years older than what his daughter would have been at the time. But she grew, and she was beautiful, nothing like the rest of the girls around. And the way he spoke of her – you woulda thought she was an actual angel on Earth and that Leonard was handcrafted and made just for her. That’s what he claimed, at least.

“The girl, well she started telling us about a boy who always visited her brother. She had spied on them, and thought he had been drinking from him, feeding him his blood and speaking of a vampire clan. Leonard stayed that night and confronted the vampire before he could come into the home. He hadn’t been there to harm anyone, having taken a fancy to the girl’s brother. He admitted to doing what she claimed, but he said it was more than that, and I didn’t believe the vampire at the time.

“Leonard forced a name out of him. The other vampire remembered clearly who had killed the child. Not many of them took the life of children, supposedly. Leonard went that night without telling any of us and killed the vampire who had done it. A few weeks later, Leonard was killed and we had a war on our hands.  I was angry but that was just like Leonard, passionate and stubborn, never the one to ask for help.

“I don’t know what it was that allowed us to kill off so many vampires that night. We took at least fifteen, just the five of us. I think it was rage. I tell you, until then, I never felt the loss of someone so strongly and I didn’t after that, until I watched each generation of your family die off.”

Niall is silent for a moment as he clears his throat, eyes stuck on the ground. Liam is interested in the story. It seems strange, like a retelling of an old myth or fantasy novel.

“When Leonard became a vampire I swore to him we –I- would protect his family. It’s a hard promise to keep because humans will die. But I’ve made it so they die when it’s their time, not by an unnatural force. Your father wanted nothing to do with me until you were born. I brought you here because this is where it all started. This is my territory. This is where your family is from. I’ve spent a lot of time, energy and resources protecting this place. Nearly all of that original clan is gone, and my clan won’t harm you.”

“Nearly?” Liam speaks up for the first time.

Niall nods. “The boy Leonard confronted was left behind when his clan left. It’s against code to kill a member of your clan, so they abandoned him instead. He offered his allegiance to me in order to be allowed to stay, to be near the boy, but I didn’t believe he was good enough. His clan killed children mate, I wasn’t willing to let those kinds of people in my home. But he had helped Leonard, though probably out of fright, so I made a deal. If he could go off on his own, start his own clan and show that he is a vampire I can trust, that I will allow him residence in my territory. The same rules my clan followed applied to him.”

“I let him take the girl’s brother as a reminder of our deal. The boy was dying, sick for months before this had all happened. He had done enough to keep the boy alive for a few days at a time. The rules of changing a human is complex but the boy would be dead after a week if he hadn’t changed.

“The dying boy locked me into another deal –seriously, I’m like a feckin’ cross roads demon – I had to care for his sister until he could return. The only reason he had let the vampire save him initially was so he could continue to take care of her. I planned on it anyway, because when I promised Leonard I would look after his family, that basically included the girl he fell in love with too. His soulmate.”    

“Did the sick boy get to see her again?”

“He came back in her life time, if that’s what you mean,” Niall responds. “But he doesn’t remember her face. Whatever ailment he had had been in his brain, and I think it effected his memory. For generations he’s watched his sister’s children grow up, and he’s been oblivious to it. Even if they hadn’t changed their name to Ramir, he still wouldn’t have known.”

“Ramir?” Liam spits. HIs mind is running fast with thoughts, trying to piece together what Niall is saying. “As in my boss?”

Niall grins. “I was hoping for that reaction.” He chuckles, lips turning up into a grin. “You feel warmth towards her because there’s something connecting the bloodlines. Some vampires find it, some do not. Louis found it, in the curly one.”

Liam stares at the vampire for a long moment. “I’m still not understanding what this has to do with anything.”

Niall stands up and sits beside him. “Liam, why do you think you’re so attached to Zayn? Why do you think I know with complete certainty that I can trust you’re safe with him?”

Liam shrugs. That was his initial question, the whole fucking point of this conversation.

He shakes his head. “You’re attached to Mrs. Ramir because for the same reason Leonard was attached to her grandmother. Connected bloodlines. Don’t be daft, Liam. Make the connection yourself.”

Liam wishes Niall would just tell him. He didn’t believe all this strange magic stuff he was talking about. Mrs. Ramir is just warm and kind, everyone attaches to her. Her dark features, her kind eyes, though stern, shaped just like -

It hits him then, as he pictures the woman’s face. He should have seen it before, the resemblance between her face and the one that has imprinted itself on the back of his eye lids.

“Is Zayn the boy who had been dying?”

Niall’s eyes light up and he points at him. “I know you would get it, Payno.” 

Liam huffs out an overwhelmed breath. "Okay, so please go over that one more time." He fidgets, trying to make sense of it all in his head but Niall being cryptic had confused him. "Long story short."

Niall grins. "Your great, great grandfather Leonard fell in love with Zayn's sister, Waliyah. Zayn was dying, Louis saved him. Mrs. Ramir is Waliyah's granddaughter. Sums it up?"

"So Zayn and I are connected because of that?"

Niall nods, punching him in the shoulder. "Like true soulmates, laddy."

 

As part of terms and conditions of Louis' staying around, Niall could check up on him at any point in time. He had never done it, or at least, he had never come to the front door and knocked. With modern technology, he could give Louis a ring or something.

He had always been careful, not to break any rules. There was no connection to his human life here, and he liked that. But everything was the life he built with Zayn, and then Harry. And that is the only thing of importance to Louis, his family. 

Niall hadn't been to his house since the day he had given it to Louis. Waliyah had moved when she was married, and since Zayn had died, in the eyes of the Malik family, the house had been vacant for years. He hoped it would trigger Zayn's memories, but it never did. Even the dusty old portrait that used to hang above his bed did nothing, and it was his own face. Zayn had said it creeped him out - which was highly amusing at the time - and threw it into the basement with the rest of his family's belongings. Niall suggested he keep quiet about it all. That Zayn would come to, one day.

Louis senses Niall's presence as soon as he steps onto the property. Harry rolls over so his back is towards Louis when he carefully untangles himself from the boy's grasp. Zayn is still in the house, thankfully. His first thoughts ... well, he doesn't want to think about it.

"What?" Louis mutters as he opens the door, keeping his voice quiet just in case Zayn is awake. Niall is decent enough not to barge in, though he has every right to. He stands on the steps, hands deep in his pockets. He's friendly looking enough, but not smiling from ear to ear like he normally is.

"I would like to speak to Zayn, please." There's no room for argument in his voice, but it isn't as authoritative at he can make it. But Louis does anyway.

"No."

Niall's eyes narrow. "I'm not going to hurt him, Louis."

"Well, I don't care." He puffs out his chest. "Zayn is a part of my clan and therefore I can -"

"Technially," Niall interrupts, holding up a finger to stop him. "He is a part of mine. If you rather I declare rightful ownership, I suggest you let me speak to the boy."

Words get stuck in his throat, and he freezes when fingers brush the skin of his lower back.

"Is it about Liam?" Zayn says softly from over his shoulder, eyeing the blond vampire with wary eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me longer on this one. I have everything due for school this week. But I have a week off for Thanksgiving and than one week left of school (minus exams). So the updates will come quicker hopefully xox Tell me what you think please x


	8. Chapter 8

Zayn keeps his fingers on Louis’ back as Niall nods in response to his question.

 _Liam, Liam, Liam._ It is the only thought he’s had, always in the front of his brain like a song with a steady rhythm, knocking on his skull, refusing to be forgotten. It would match his heartbeat, if he had one.

Zayn presses his lips against the shell of Louis’ ear. “Give us a moment, yeah? I’ll be in right afterwards.”

Louis turns and looks at him and though his face is set calm, there’s a fear in his eyes. As much as Louis denies it, emotions read on his face easier than words on a piece of paper. Louis nods with hesitancy and shuts the door as Zayn steps outside. He can hear his pacing a few steps behind the door way, but his mind is focused back on Niall and Liam. _Liam, Liam, Liam._

“Is he alright?” Zayn asks before Niall can say anything. He’d feel it, wouldn’t he? The emotions coming from Liam are nothing severe. He’s dealing with this better than Zayn is, but he shouldn’t be expecting anything else given their situation. He doesn’t want Liam to feel bad, just thinking about it makes him feel sick.

And it doesn’t make sense why Niall is here. The Irish man is a ball of mystery, Zayn thinks. There is no reason Niall should feel compelled to tell Zayn anything about Liam. But there was no reason for Niall to think he could trust Zayn with Liam to begin with and he had.

“Are you alright?” Niall questions instead of answering.

“Yes,” Zayn lies easily. It’s nearly impossible to describe the tension in his muscles and the ache that has settled in his chest and made home there the moment Liam looked at him with horror filled eyes.

“Liam is doing the same,” he says with a knowing look in his eyes that makes Zayn confused on whether he is referring to the truth, or the lie.

“How do you mean?” There’s only so much back and forth banter he can handle before the questions knocking around his brain are voiced.

Niall shrugs nonchalantly but his eyes are pointed on Zayn. “You know, lying about it because the situation is too confusing to understand why he doesn’t feel fine.”

Zayn stiffens underneath Niall’s knowing glance. “Why are you here?” Liam isn’t something he just wants to casually discuss with a vampire he barely knows. Niall has been kind to him, but that’s abnormal for a vampire.

“I’ve come to request that Louis tell you about your past, Zayn.” There’s a soft gasp, forming the syllables of a harsh word from inside. “I respect your two's history enough to give him the right to do it or not but I’m also asshole enough to put the idea in your head to nag him about it.” There’s a slight grin on Niall’s face but it’s not malicious. He can hear Louis muttering, but the words are unclear.

“What does this have to do with Liam?” Zayn snaps.

“It’s important to know, to understand you’re connection with Liam. And Louis is the only vampire I know that understands it. And your past is key. Don’t you want to know it?” Niall’s eye brows rise into his hair line. Of course Zayn wants to know, but he dealt with that a long time ago. Louis and him haven’t even spoke of it in decades.

“Why do you care if I know it?” Niall knows too much and it’s disconcerting. It makes Zayn feel vulnerable. He’s only spoken to Louis of his past, and to no one about the connection he feels to Liam. It’s nothing worth talking about, just something he’s came up with in his head to make himself believe he had the right to touch the boy with the innocent brown eyes.

“Because Liam is my responsibility, to care for and protect, and he needs you. I’d be slacking on my job if I just let you two stay apart from each other.”

Zayn runs his fingers through his hair as his chest tightens. Liam needs him. None of the other questions seem important anymore. “Did he tell you that?”

“He doesn’t have to. Liam has had possibly the worst past few months and he was a miserable little shit let me tell you – though he really had every right. But not when you were there. And as soon as you left it came back.”

Not once since Zayn stepped outside had Niall moved. But now he takes a step forward, closing the space between them and presses his lips almost against his ear so Zayn can hear his lowered voice. “You’re the only thing Liam has. And as much as he hates vampires I don’t think that matters when it comes to you. He's just afraid you know, in shock maybe.”

Zayn wants to ask why Liam has had a horrible few months or why he hates vampires, but he doesn’t. Opting for, “so what are you saying?” instead, leaning his head back to look at Niall’s face. Its stern, lips pressed into a hard line that is quite contrasting with the smile that had just been there a few minutes ago.

“You’re going to find yourself back there, anyways mate. Might as well do it now and save your pining, stubborn asses the torture. It’s only been two weeks. Can you imagine what three weeks will feel like?”

 

Louis is sitting on the edge of the couch, legs curled into his chest and head resting on the arm rest when Zayn walks in. He’s as still as a vampire can get, unmoving in anyway.

“What is he going on about?” Zayn asks when the door shuts behind him.

“Where should I start?” Louis breathes, shrugging his shoulders. His expression is pinched but there’s something softer playing behind his eyes.

Zayn sits beside him and tugs him up straight. “You know who I am. Tell me.” He says it kindly, resting his own head against the couch so Louis knows he isn’t trying to be accusing or mean, but he needs to know.

“I’ve tried before, you know,” Louis says with a bit of an edge to his voice. Zayn locks their fingers and moves his thumb across the back of Louis’ hand. Not accusing, not mean. Louis sighs, reluctant to let his defensive exterior fall.

“Zayn Malik from Honey Crescent Lane. Born January 12th, 1897. Worked as a craftsman, entrepreneur of sorts, before falling ill and being changed in 1916 by yours truly.” He holds up his fingers and starts ticking off names. Zayn tries to focus and not think about the only other place where he has seen the name Malik before; carved right below Liam’s surname.  “Mother named Tricia, married to Yaser Malik. One sister, who died before the age of one, and the second, Waliyah, who married and died of natural causes at 70.”

Louis is being difficult and avoiding eye contact. The few times he looks at Zayn are enough to see the guilt and fear mixing around in the blue irises. There’s something keeping Louis back and there’s only one way to break through it.

"I stopped trying to tell you because I thought you would leave. So I brought you here, so you could remember and not leave, but then Stan died and I - I dunno."

“Why are you so afraid of me leaving?” Zayn tries. It’s tense in the air, but he needs answers. He keeps the pressure of their palms together. _It’s okay, it’s okay_ , he chants in his forehead, hoping it shows on his face or in the soft press of his fingers against the back of Louis’ hand.

Louis bites his lips and watches Zayn’s thumb across his skin. There’s a long pause and Zayn struggles to remain quiet, giving Louis all the time he needs.

“I was in another clan,” Louis starts. His voice is thick like it gets when he doesn’t want to talk about something. “Their leader, Ben turned me a few towns over. And we were in love. Or, I was in love with him. Or maybe I just thought I was. Thinking about it now, I was more his pet than his companion, but at the time I thought we were a power couple. He was disgusting, really, but I was blinded by that because he was mine and I was his and that gave me power.”

Zayn can somewhat remember Louis bringing up a prior clan in hushed whispers with Stan. Zayn had never pushed for answers, letting Stan have his time with Louis as long as it was him that got to have the intimate moments later, when the sky was dark and their bed creaked as they moved together on top of it.

It no longer hurts to think about. It’s only the easiness with Louis that he misses now, and even that has been pushed aside by the pain that accompanies missing Liam.

“We populated a new town and he was sleeping with everyone, really. Killing people and letting his vampires kill children and women and everything I wish I would have had the balls to stop. I think I knew I wasn’t a powerful one, because I let it happen too.” Louis chews on the bottom of his lip, keeping his eyes away from Zayn’s. “The one time I did, one of his right hand men killed a child that couldn’t have been over a year old just to mess with me. How fucking sick, right? Ben let them have a go at me, to the point where I thought that that was it for me.”

Zayn’s stomach twists with disgust. Never had he looked at a child and listened to its heart beat, or felt the urge to end it, even if he could smell the scent of blood drifting from their veins.

He moves closer to the older vampire, wishing he could form the words needed to console Louis. No matter how much they fought, or what they fought over, which guilt twists in Zayn’s stomach at the thought of, they are family.

“They all left me.” Louis’ eyes flutter towards him before quickly looking away, across the dark air of the living room. “I mean, I deserved it. But it still really fucks you up, ya know?”

Zayn reaches out and touches Louis’ jaw line, turning his head. Tears glisten from the small amount of light in the room, standing out against the shadows underneath his eyelids. It hurts, knowing that it’s something Louis is still struggling with. “You can’t hold on to it for forever,” Zayn responds. Louis nods, leaning into the palm of his hand.

“I thought I got over it but recently-” Louis shrugs, as if that explains it all.

“I’m not going to leave,” Zayn starts, hesitantly. The words feel like the truth. “I don’t want to either. This is my home, and you are my family.”

Louis’ jaw clenches and he bites his lip seemingly hard when he nods.

“But not being with Liam isn’t an option. It’s physically painful and I can’t even describe it?” It’s strange, discussing it. But it’s Louis, and this is how it used to be. How Zayn wants it to go back to. “And I’m sorry Louis, please know how sorry I am when I say that you refusing to let me go and keep me away from Liam is just going to make me leave and stay away. I’m sorry I made you choose between Harry and I because I understand now. There is no choosing.”

Zayn doesn’t mention that it’s Liam that made him leave. It doesn’t matter anymore. He can feel Liam, though the pain mixes with his own in a way that it is nearly hard to tell them apart. _He needs you, he needs you, he needs you._

“I’m not trying to keep you from him. I’m just trying to keep you from leaving me,” Louis clarifies. “And I know I don’t have the right to feel that way.”

Zayn shakes his head. “Of course you have the right to feel that way.” Their relationship is complicated but it’s one of importance, and always had been. He wishes he could tell Louis nothing could change that, but it wouldn’t be the full truth. Not when there’s something tugging his chest towards Liam.

Louis closes his eyes. When he finally speaks, his voice is restrained and quiet. “When they left me all I had was you, Zayn. And you were dying and Niall wasn’t going to let me take you with me nor let me stay. Back then I thought I was in love with you too, and maybe I was before Harry, but it’s a different kind of love now, I think. But you’re right; there would never have been a choice. I can’t describe it either.” He chews on his lip, watching Zayn’s face. “Now I don’t have any claim to you. You’re not mine, I’m technically not even a clan leader, Niall is, and you really have no reason to stay.”

Zayn ignores the questions running through his mind, about him dying, and Louis’ presence in his human life. Louis doesn’t need to explain further than that because Zayn understands. It’s like something calm settles between them.

“I’m going to stay because you’re my family, Lou.”

Louis looks around the living room, the corners of his lips tilting up but only slightly. Zayn’s never seen him so still and quiet. “This was your home, when you were human. I brought you back here because I thought it would trigger your memory. I never tried to keep it from you but it seemed like it upset you whenever I tried to talk about it. So I stopped.”

“Can you talk about it now?”

Louis shifts around so he can press his side into Zayn. Zayn doesn’t let go of his hand, to remind Louis that he really means it when he says he isn’t going anywhere. Not technically, at least.

 

 

Harry tries not to listen, and he succeeds until he can hear his name roll off of Zayn’s tongue. There’s no anger or loathing coating it like their normally is. It hurt, listening to Louis retell his past. There’s pain still there, despite the length of time in between then and now. Harry hopes it doesn’t last forever.

“I’m glad that you have found him.” There’s no longer an edge in Louis’ voice. Harry smiles proudly into the pillow as he listens to him. This is his Louis. The one that’s kind and loving. It’s just takes a lot to bring it to light. “I was lucky to have you, but it’s different with Harry, y’ know? It’s like, I dunno, it sounds stupid, but there’s a point in living forever now. That’s what you feel with Liam, right?”

Harry doesn’t hear a response but he imagines it as a yes. He wipes at his eyes so Louis won’t find tear streaks on the pillow case later. He’s glad too. And when Zayn leaves and Louis tip toes back into their bedroom, Harry doesn’t mention that forever will only last the short period of a human life and then Zayn will be gone too. Instead, he presses his lips to the older vampire’s forehead and thumbs across the tears drying on his cheeks.

 

Liam’s finger hovers over the send button, eyes reading and re-reading the message in the box above the keyboard. He’s not looking for grammar mistakes, or if he sounds awkward, and frankly he doesn’t care if the message causes any judgment from Niall. He hits send before he can convince himself otherwise.

It’s been gnawing at his bones and clawing at his chest. The need to see Zayn, just to be in his presence. It’s an unbearable feeling, and worst of all, one that doesn’t make any sense. He shouldn’t have to know where the hell Zayn is in the world in order to get a full night of sleep. There shouldn’t be a clamp on his heart every day that goes by without Zayn being there. He had only been around for a little over a month and somewhere, somehow he ruined Liam. And it feels like he ruined Liam the moment Liam saw him across the way, sitting at the small round table at the café.

Liam bites at his lip, staring at the tiny word that says ‘Delivered’ underneath the text message, waiting for it change to ‘Read at…’. Niall is his only connection to Zayn. Liam doesn’t have his phone number and has no clue where he lives. He doesn’t even know what last name the vampire claims, since it can’t be his human surname. If it was, wouldn’t he have recognized it that day at the park?

It feels like a brick hits his chest every time he sees their names together, carved into the back of his eyelids the way it is in the tree. Liam purposely avoids that pathway on his way to work, though his body craves to be near it.  As if that carving alone is enough to satisfy the ache in his bones that is Zayn.

“If you were a vampire, that phone would be a goner, clutching it like that.”

The voice resonates slowly into Liam’s brain, flowing through his limbs and dragging his eyes towards the window sill, where Zayn sits perched, looking as breathless and overwhelmed as Liam feels.

“Zayn,” Liam blurts, feet planted firmly on the ground. It’s like being hit with a forceful burst of wind, the way the tension in his muscles, though unnoticeable beforehand, wash away.  Liam wishes his greeting could have been something smoother or witty, but he’s neither of those things.

“Liam.” Zayn nods his head but does not move from the window sill. It’s all very Twilight-esque and normally the fan girl in Liam would squeal, but he only stares. He had asked Niall for Zayn’s phone number in the hope he would see him, but he hadn’t actually planned on what was going to happen if he did.

Zayn shifts and stands, but doesn’t close any more of the space between them. “I saw that you have, like, all of the Twilight Special Editions. I hope it was suave and cool coming into your window and not weird and creepy like in the movie.”

“You’ve watched them.” Liam’s voice feels funny in his throat and there’s an itch on his fingertips to touch Zayn’s skin.

Zayn rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I watch all of the vampire movies, read all of the books. Dracula, Twilight, that one with like fourteen sequels with the moons, Vampire Academy, “ And Zayn must be nervous too for he rambles off a few more book titles, eyes planted on Liam the whole time.

“I don’t know what any of those are,” Liam responds. The corners of Zayn’s lips quirk up and that’s enough to pull Liam forward, closing the space between them in three strides.

Liam reaches out and brushes his thumb along the edge of Zayn’s mouth, no hesitation in his movements. Zayn’s eyes are on him, searching his face. His skin feels warm and refreshed, and he takes a deep breath.

“I feel that way too,” Zayn breathes out, leaning into Liam’s touch. “Like air is forcing its way into my system though I haven’t actually needed to breathe in a hundred or so years.”

“What does it mean?” The last few weeks have been too hard on him to hold back the need to explore Zayn’s skin, making sure he’s actually right there in front of him.  

Zayn curls his fingers around Liam’s waist. “That we’re supposed to be near each other.”

Liam nods as if that makes all of the sense in the world. It feels like that’s what it is, but it doesn’t make any sense. The way his body burns under Zayn’s touch and how the warmth spreads through his abdomen and chest like wild fire. It’s not a normal reaction to someone’s presence, at least, not one Liam’s experienced before. And it’s extremely cheesy and corny and everything Liam loves.

“I’m sorry I made you leave,” Liam says. It’s overwhelming, the way Zayn’s fingers skate over his sides and back like he cannot physically stop. Liam’s fingers push along his jaw and around his neck, curling into the soft hair that is there.

“I’m sorry I actually left.”

Liam leans in and brushes his lips against Zayn’s, pulling out a soft breath from the vampire. He isn’t supposed to breathe and for a moment Liam wonders if it’s just a habit of his, or if Liam could actually have an effect on someone like that. But the thought is pushed out of his head by the pressure of Zayn’s lips. 

He had been surprised by the chill on Zayn’s lips the first time, and it isn’t any different now. But the cold doesn’t contrast with the warmth, instead mixing together. Zayn drags his tongue across Liam’s lips and he parts them, tasting something sweet.

Liam has only kissed one other person. A girlfriend he had when he was fourteen and he’s not so sure that counts. They were only together a short few weeks, much shorter of a time then Liam spent actually trying to be with her, and it was nothing like this. Every drag of Zayn’s lips against own sends warmth down his spine, relaxing his muscles and pulling him in. He feels needy but it doesn’t matter, if the way Zayn’s fingers dig into his back and the soft sounds he makes is any indication that Zayn feels the same.

Liam steps back until Zayn’s back presses against the wall with a slight gasp coming from the vampire’s lips. He wants Zayn to feel surrounded by him, the way he feels about Zayn. Zayn’s teeth tug at his lips and he returns the groan, pressing his hips down.

“Liam,” Zayn breathes out. There’s something in his eyes that Liam doesn’t understand until they travel along his jaw and pause on his neck.

“I trust you, yeah? I just want –“ Liam stutters out, pressing his lips back to Zayn’s like keeping them away is too much to handle.

Their bodies press together, contrasting in shape and size, color and temperature, yet move together in a way that feels as one. Liam’s heart beats against his chest and onto Zayn’s. He can feel it in Zayn’s fingertips, digging into his side as their hips move together. Liam breathes against Zayn’s lips and Zayn returns it, his warm breath running across the tongue that wipes along his lower lip.

Zayn tugs at his shirt and the air between them when Liam pulls away to remove it is too much. Zayn understands, tugging his own shirt off before connecting their bodies again. Zayn’s fingers circle his neck and pull him close. He turns them, so Liam’s back hits the wall. Liam’s hands trail down his back and press against his hips, angling them to grind harder into Liam. There’s no hesitancy any longer, but desperate movements and shudders of breath.

Pleasure pulses through every inch of his skin and his head hits the wall hard as Zayn’s hand slips between them and cups the length of him. It’s too fast but not fast enough. Liam lets out a frustrated groan.

“Shit Liam,” Zayn groans back against the skin of his neck as he pops the button on his jeans open. Even if Liam’s brain could muster up something to respond with, it would wash away as Zayn’s finger curl around him. His hips rut up, begging for Zayn to tighten his grip. But Zayn loosely strokes him as his teeth pull on the tender skin of Liam’s neck gently.

“You can bite me,” Liam gasps. It wasn’t something he thought about and he only regrets them when Zayn’s fingers freeze against him.

Zayn pulls away, eyes blown wide. Liam takes the chance to look him over. Tattoos coat his skin and he is straining hard in his jeans, clearly just as affected as Liam is. There’s a darkness in his eyes that in anyone else would terrify Liam, but with Zayn it twists something low in his stomach.

Liam smirks. “Unless you much rather stare?”

"I thought you hated um, what I am?" Zayn says hesitantly.

Liam shakes his head quickly. "I was just scared Zayn. I like everything about you."

Zayn nods and an arm snakes around his waist and they’re moving, much faster than Liam’s ever moved before. The door in their way is the only thing slowing their movements and telling Liam where they’re headed.

His back presses against the soft material of his bedding and Zayn is crouching over him, knees pressed on either side of him. There’s a lazy smile on his lips before he leans down and presses them to Liam’s jaw.

Liam meant it when he said he trusted Zayn. He doesn’t freeze up when Zayn’s teeth slide against his skin, instead shivering and grinding his hips up into Zayn. Zayn’s fingers slide between them, dragging along the muscles in his stomach and down his hips. Zayn follows after, moving his tongue and scraping his teeth down Liam’s torso.

Zayn’s tongue runs against the skin under his belly button, fingers curling around his jeans and tugging them off. Liam watches, biting his lip as Zayn pulls on Liam’s legs, tugging him down on the bed and spreading them. His lips are soft against his inner thigh, moving until Zayn’s cheek is only a breath away from his cock.

Liam gasps at the press of his teeth in the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Zayn looks up at him, something black coming over his eyes as he presses down. Liam lets out a sound much filthier than he’s ever made before, fingers curling into Zayn’s hair. He is impossibly hard, the texture of his briefs darkening around the head. Zayn sucks on the skin, closing his eyes and moaning against Liam, ignoring his cock but it pulses as if Zayn’s lips are there instead.

He knows he thought it was scary, wrong and unnatural when the vampires in Niall's clan drank, but with Zayn - it's so different, curls arousal in his stomach and god, he shouldn't love it - 

Zayn lets his skin go, tongue rolling the flat of his tongue over the blossoming of red. He looks up at Liam with heavily lidded eyes before mouthing at Liam through his briefs. Liam moves his hips up impatiently and Zayn grins before hooking a finger around his briefs and tugging them down.

His lips wrap around the tip, tongue moving along the slit and every inch of his skin gasps Zayn’s name. His senses are on overload, the touch, smell and feel of Zayn being too much. He throws an arm over his eyes as Zayn sinks lower, until the tip of his cock is nudging against the back of his throat. Zayn groans against him and his stomach clenches. It’s too fast and Zayn knows, pulling off with an obscene wet sound. He presses the flat of his palms on the back of Liam’s thighs and presses them forward, so his knees curl into his chest.

“Zayn,” he chants breathlessly as Zayn’s tongue slips lower. Liam cups his fingers around the back of his knees to free Zayn’s hands to spread him. It’s intimate and something Liam’s never experienced, but he trusts Zayn.

A finger presses against his hole, followed by something softer and wetter. Liam moves his hips down desperately until he feels Zayn push inside of him, finger slick with saliva.

Zayn hooks his finger, looking up at Liam from between his legs. “You have –“ he starts before Liam is nodding, letting go of his legs to turn towards the nightstand. Zayn’s finger presses deeper into him and he moans, fingers yanking on the knob of the drawer harder than he had meant to.

Cool liquid slides against his skin, almost as cool as Zayn’s lip that presses to the start of the back of his thigh, teeth pressing in again as he screws a second finger into Liam. The sharp contrast of pain and pleasure rocks through Liam and he grips into the sheets, arching his back.  Zayn’s fingers press into the knot of nerves and they groan together.

The bite of Zayn’s teeth no longer sting as he scissors his fingers, loosening Liam for a third. His body shakes and he desperately wants to wrap a finger around his prick as the argument of going too fast and wanting to slow down continues.

Zayn pulls away from Liam’s skin as he slowly fucks Liam with his fingers. He could look at Zayn like that forever, all dark features with swollen red lips and dark eyes. He slips his fingers away from Liam without warning and Liam gasps at the absence of Zayn’s touch.

Zayn slips down the rest of his clothes and Liam watches his prick spring free, darker than the rest of Zayn’s skin. Zayn’s finger curl around it and he wishes those were his fingers.

“Yeah?” Zayn moans, kneeling in front of Liam and behind over him, so the head of his cock digs into Liam’s thigh. He nods desperately and Zayn laughs before pressing his lips against Liam’s.

He keeps them there, as he positions himself better over Liam and moves his hips so his cock presses against Liam’s hole. It’s much too slow and his nails dig into Zayn’s hips, begging him to go faster. Zayn’s lips around Liam’s tongue and muffle his moan as he slides into Liam, stilling once their skin press together.

Zayn moans Liam’s name as he starts to move his hips and Liam thinks he likes how everything around them is a mix of the two. The way the scent of laundry soap and body spray on his sheets mix with the scent musky scent of Zayn. How their skin slaps together mixing into the chorus of ‘Zayn’s and ‘Liam’s. Liam’s body arches when Zayn’s presses forward. When Zayn’s teeth press into his neck he’s not sure where he begins and where Zayn ends. Pleasure uncoils in his stomach and up his spine, spreading across every inch of skin.

When he comes it’s too fast, shuddering underneath Zayn as he pulses inside of him with a hoarse moan. Zayn’s movements are slow when he pulls out of Liam, not letting their bodies separate too much before he’s wrapping his arms around Liam and pressing his lips to the healing marks on the curve of his neck.

 

“I don’t remember it,” Zayn tells him, running his fingers along Liam’s scalp, feeling the prickly hairs against the tips. “Any of it. My home, my family, my sister – my face.”

The morning is lazy, the sun from behind the curtains setting a golden glow to the room. Liam’s eyes are heavy with sleep and his lips swollen from the night before. It reminds him of what Louis said about Harry being his forever. Zayn thinks he wouldn’t mind waking up to Liam’s tired eyes every morning for the rest of forever.

Liam looks up. “You’ve never seen your face?”

“No”

“I’m sorry, you’re missing out.” Liam smirks lazily. Zayn tugs the bottom of his lip into his mouth.

His words are hesitant and come out softer than a whisper. “Tell me? What I look like?”

Liam pushes up so he’s half hovering over Zayn and half lying on his chest. He moves his fingers against the skin on Zayn’s face. Zayn’s eyes linger on his own, following the pattern of Liam’s fingers as if Liam were his reflection in the mirror.

“You have dark pink lips and tanned, coffee with a lot of cream skin.” He moves his fingers around the edges of Zayn’s lips, smirking at his description of Zayn’s complexion. “They quirk up whenever you are amused, and it reaches your eyes. Dark brown, but like a gold too, surrounded by these thick eyelashes that I’m sure not even using mascara could accomplish on the average person.”

Zayn looks at Liam’s brown eyes and the glow of laughter that shines from them.

Liam brushes his fingers over Zayn’s eyes that flutter closed before contact. “They crinkle at the corners and get all squinty when you laugh. Normally you look like stone, but the crinkles break through that and it’s like sunshine breaking through the ground when the sun rises.”

Zayn barks out a laugh, watching as Liam’s own eyes crinkle and squint when he laughs in return. Zayn grabs his face and thumbs over his cheeks.

“Did you read that in a book?”

Liam’s cheeks redden and he shrugs. “Quite possibly.”

Zayn runs his thumb across the warmth of his skin. “So you’re telling me that I look just like you.”

Liam bites his lip and the corners of them quirk up, the way Liam had described Zayn’s. “Was my description that shitty?”

Zayn shakes his head. “No.  I’ve had this obsession with my reflection, for as long as I can remember. And I just think I’ve finally been able to see it.”

Liam dips his head into the curve of Zayn’s neck, but not before he sees the smile that pushes against his bright red cheeks. Zayn circles his arms around him and holds him close to his chest, warmth and cold mixing together just right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it. [tumblr](http://zipplekink.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/aveszayn) if you need it!


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